


Wasn't gonna stab ya.

by Aereona



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dean is so soft in this fic, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Might be OOC, Minor Injuries, OFC has a mysterious past, OFC is a mutant and from another reality, OFC is stubborn, POV Alternating, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Swearing, Teasing, Trust, and they're both in denial of being stubborn people, but I love letting "hard" characters show their softness, clichés everywhere, dean is stubborn, or should i say bunkermates?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 49,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aereona/pseuds/Aereona
Summary: Arriving at a vampire nest, Sam and Dean find the place empty except for someone who ditches them within five minutes of meeting them. What happens when they meet again?---POV will be mostly OFC (Max), though when needed it can switch to other characters. More tags will be added along the way.
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural) & Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

Another job finished. Nine vamps this time. After rummaging around in their nest, there were a couple of hundred bucks to be found. _Bingo!_ Cash stuffed in her backpack; time to get out of this foul-smelling place. A short but feisty hike to get here and the ensuing fight caused a throbbing ache in both knees. Thank fuck there’s a small lake at the back of this dilapidated cabin.

* * *

Following behind Sam on a hiking trail that never seems to end is goddamn boring. Walking all day. Trees to the left. Trees to the right, to the front, to the back. There are only so many rocks or branches that can be kicked before even that gets monotonous. “Garth better got us a good case. I’m gonna kick his ass if this long-ass walk’s been for nothing. Are you sure you’re following the right coordinates?”

“Can you stop complaining for one second, Dean?!” Sam says while taking a peek at the map on his cell phone.

“Pfffffff. Pfft. I’ll complain as much as I damn want, Sammy! Just... Just shut your mouth and keep walk—“

“Dean! Shut up. We’re close.” Seriousness descends on both brothers as they raise their sharp-as-a-scalpel machetes and continue on. Footsteps placed with caution and complete silence. Eyes and ears alert.

Approaching the old but substantial cabin, they notice the open door and line up next to each other. Dean motions his machete towards Sam and points with his left thumb to his chest. _I’m going in first._ After clasping his machete tighter, Sam gives a clear nod. Tiptoeing inside, one after the other, into an empty living room. _Huh._ After standing there for a minute, nothing happens. Sam points to a door on their left. Like a well-oiled machine, they check the rest of the cabin. Four compact bedrooms with bunk beds, a kitchen covered in dust and a bathroom with the tiniest shower in history; all cleared. Personal items everywhere. No vamps. No bodies. Nada. “Dude…”

“Don’t. Don’t even say it, Dean. Garth’s lead looked OK. I swear I triple checked everything!” Sam checks the map on his cell phone again and displays it to Dean. “See, this is the exact spot we’re at.”

“Dude, seriously.” Dean scoffs while waving his arms around. “Are you NOT seeing the explosion marks all over the place?”

Straining to contain an eye roll, Sam keeps staring at Dean. “I’m not blind.” A smirk forms on Dean’s face; so Sam continues to stop Dean from saying anything. “No vampires and no victims. Only these marks everywhere inside.” Both take a closer look at one of the shapes on the wall. “Perhaps Garth put another hunter on this lead as well? We still need to check the outside perimeter. They could’ve killed them all and buried or burned the bodies outside.”

“Well, what are you waiting on?” Without looking at Sam, he turns around and heads out the back door. “Let’s go, slacker.” Still close enough to hear Sam murmur something that sounds an awful lot like a curse word. A witty remark never gets uttered as he spots something that makes him stop in his tracks. At once he raises his left arm to the side to stop Sam from walking on while raising his machete with the other hand.

Sam, now next to him, whispers. “What? Where?” Pointing his machete out toward the lake, Sam looks in the same direction and notices what Dean’s been looking at. Sharing a brief look, they edge closer with their machetes raised.

Thoughts running a hundred miles an hour. Something’s there. In all likelihood it’s been there the entire time. Waiting. Sitting hunched over at the edge of the lake. Curves underneath a white t-shirt; appears to be female. _Is it sitting with its feet in the water? Didn’t know vampires liked to do that._ Deciding to rid the world of another vampire, he signals Sam to get ready, who confirms with a nod. Its brown hair in a ponytail will make the job that little bit easier. As they’re in range to take its head off, it speaks. “I mean you no harm.” Its voice was loud and clear. _It let us get close. Dammit! There’s gotta be more of them._ “Unless you’re vampires, then I’m afraid I do mean you harm.”

Dean’s body freezes up. Standing stock-still, unable to talk after realizing he was a split second away from killing a human, he listens to Sam start to speak. “Wh-Who are you?”

“Max.”

“What happened? Did you… did you take out the nest?”

She lets out a weary sigh, flexes her feet in the water and shuffles backward. “A lot happened, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.” She has an anti-possession tattoo on her left foot which appears to be surrounded by a mandala. Drying her feet with her blue socks, she puts them in her grey backpack. Placing her bare feet in her hiking shoes, she ties the shoelaces with great speed. All the while, Sam and Dean keep their eyes on her every move. After rolling down her green cargo pants, she gets up and brushes the dirt from her pants. “Yeah, the nest’s wiped out. Seems you missed out on all the fun.” Finally turning around, she shows her face and has to crane her neck to smile kindly at Sam. _Damn, those cheekbones and those gorgeous brown eyes._ Dean swallows thickly. “Gotta say though, you guys are without a doubt the loudest hunters I’ve ever encountered. Knew you guys were sneaking up on me the entire time.”

“No way you heard us.” She makes eye contact with Dean and raises an eyebrow. Then she starts grinning. “You mean to tell us you killed an entire nest unassisted, and with no bodies to prove it?” Still grinning like she’s having an inside joke causes Dean to become agitated. “Not a single speck of fresh blood to be found. Yeah right, sister, and I’m Marilyn Monroe!”

“Hey, if you get to be Marilyn Monroe then I get to be Batman.” Both Sam and Dean snort at her retort. As she chuckles, she puts her backpack on her shoulder. She tilts her head to the side as she unabashedly checks out both brothers before she shrugs her shoulders. “Believe me or don’t. That’s your decision. See ya around, Marilyn. Tall guy.” Without sparing either a further glance, she strolls away.

“It’s Sam! Hey Max, wait up!” His shouts go unanswered as she keeps walking away. “We just wanna talk!”

“Son of a bitch! You almost punctured my eardrums!” Both stand with a hand on a tree, observing her. She makes her way through the forest, going west, while the brothers had come from the south. “You notice the limp? Think she’s injured?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a feeling she doesn’t want or need our help.” _So she’s_ _stubborn as hell._ “I don’t know what to make of her. I mean, do we know anything about any kind of weapon that can make vampires… disappear? Or annihilate them?“

“Yeah, me neither.” Sam crosses his arms and gazes across the lake while Dean lets his mind work through the last few minutes. “Assuming it’s a weapon and she’s human, that is. Shit, Sammy! Why didn’t you test if she’s human?!”

“Wha—Why didn’t you?!”

“I thought she was human! Besides, she did have the anti-possession tat on her foot.”

“So did I! It’s obvious she’s a hunter too and we both heard how she only meant harm to vampires.” Sam runs his hand through his hair while Dean kicks a rock away; sending prayers to Cas to come pick them up. “Nothing happened, right? She didn’t test us either. So, let’s assume she’s thinking the same thing right now. Maybe we’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Yeah, fine. But next time, you check ‘m—you can’t forget stuff like this, Sam.”

“Whatever, Dean.” Sam says while doing the most perfect eye roll he’s ever achieved.

“Ughhhhh, we gotta walk back the entire way, Cas hasn’t shown up yet.” Dean’s pouting like a child at the prospect of doing the boring and taxing walk, again. “Bastard.”

“Some exercise is good for you, Dean. It’s not that long a walk, man, not even 40 minutes.”

Aggravated at not getting to fight after doing something foolish as hiking. Dealing with a possible dangerous situation that is the human/not human Max, her ditching like that and then the prospect of having to hike again; he takes it out on the only available person. “All I hear is _bla bla bla_. You and your freakin’ health stuff.”

“Why do I even bother? You’re pissed because Max wasn’t interested in you. Oh my god, Dean, you’re so predictable.”

“What? That—that’s not even—that’s beside the point. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sam keeps looking at him with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Hah!” Sam shouts after Dean, who’s already marching away. “It’s this way!” No longer able to contain himself, he bursts out in laughter as Dean stomps past him.

* * *

After Max made her way back to her car, she gets in the driver’s seat and checks her phone. Two unread messages.

**:: Let me know how it goes as soon as you’re done, please.**

**:: I swear, after this one, we will find you someone new to hunt with.**

Maeve. Always worrying. In particular when she couldn’t join you on the hunt _and_ she couldn’t find someone else to cover for her. With a fond smile, Max constructs an answer.

**\-- mavs, you can quit worrying now, omw back & am fine**

**\-- bad intel, tho!! 9 instead of 8, say what?! as punishment, you will do the dishes this month. it is known.**

**:: Thank god you’re ok! Dishes, fine. -.-**

**\-- you know any hunter named Sam? caught up to me AFTER the job was finished. there was another guy too, didn’t catch his name... both remarkably tall**

**:: Only heard of one that’s tall. Must be Sam Winchester and his brother, Dean. They’re in a way bigger league than us. And by that, I mean plain old trouble. Don’t stay around them for long if you know what’s good for you.**

**\-- alright, got it—had already ditched them. you’re being such a mom rn, kinda digging it ^^**

**:: I’m 8** **years younger than you! Call me mom again and we’re kicking you out.**

With a snort, she puts her phone in her backpack, places it on the seat and starts the engine. Glad to have met other hunters; kind of bummed to hear they’re nothing but trouble. Max shakes her head as if to shake away all that happened today. Turning on the radio to hear a song she loves, causes a warm smile to grace her face.

_'[Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABfQuZqq8wg)  
[Ain't no valley low enough](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABfQuZqq8wg)  
[Ain't no river wide enough](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABfQuZqq8wg)  
[To keep me from getting to you babe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ABfQuZqq8wg)_

Time to sing along and hit the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for grammar/vocabulary errors, English is not my native language. So, thoughts and feedback are extremely welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Song mentioned at the end: Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell – Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks into Maeve still doing the dishes, she got wind of another case. Even though Maeve’s an outstanding hunter, she also suffers from horrendous migraines that force her to stay home for days. Having noticed her telltale signs— closing most curtains, avoiding looking at light and flinching at sounds—Max let Maeve know it’s okay to sit another one out. Health always comes first. Though vexed at her own situation, Maeve still insisted on doing most of the research and finding another hunter to help out.

Logan Mars. Hunter slash surfer dude. When he’s not on a surfboard, he’s hunting. Word is he killed a monster with his surfboard once. When asked about that, he shrugs and says something like _‘I’d never ruin a board like that. Or would I?’_. He’s a decent hunter though.

After Maeve told Logan which town to go over the phone, Max packed a duffel bag and headed out. After a short drive, she arrived at one of the town’s hotels and booked two rooms. Logan would be arriving in about three hours. Three long hours. Before Max left, she had printed out a map and marked some points of interest. No new insights presented themselves. So, she goes over everything Maeve had found out. Five victims spread across the town. According to the—oh so legally obtained—autopsy reports there were various bite marks and chunks of flesh missing. All of them classified as death by animal attack. The second death was ten days after the first; the next was eight days after that. The last ones had exactly three days in between. Escalating. Hungry. Possible rugaru. According to the lore Maeve found, the male gets triggered after he knocks someone up. Hannibal and his baby mama.

The next death will be either today or tomorrow. No time to lose.

No leads either.

Might as well head out in town.

Max dons her ‘professional clothes’ which are in fact dark blue chino pants, a light grey loose t-shirt and a dark blue blazer. Combined with white chucks and her hair loose. That’s as professional as it gets for Max. Some of the female hunters she partnered with in the past prefer pencil skirts and high heels that make them look like Femme Fatales. In all honesty, she’s impressed by them and somewhat scared of what they’re capable of. As for a fake badge, she chooses Claire Durand of the Department of Homeland Security. Local cops in small towns like these tend to be wary of FBI, CIA and the like. Except for Homeland Security; when she tells them they’ve come to assess if they can help the town with funding for any natural disasters, they welcome them with open arms. As long as they feel they’re being treated as equals. That’s the most important part.

From the few people she passes by in the streets, it’s safe to say most of them are keeping indoors with this murder-by-animal-spree going on. In the supermarket, she buys some snacks and takes the opportunity to ask the cashier if she knows what’s going on. The girl must be around 17-18. She squints at Max while shrugging. _Great, still getting nowhere. Bullshitting it is._ “I recently found out through a DNA-test that I have relatives living here. Then I asked the office for names and they wouldn’t say anything. I mean, weird, right? I have family! Just tell me! But between you and me, I kinda looked at her screen when she went to get me some water. Like, fuck the government, you know?” To which the teen started nodding along. “Turns out I have a sister. The name was blacked out, can you believe that shit?” Still nodding along and getting a soft _no way_. “The only thing on there was her last doctor’s visits. And all of them were with an obstetrician. So you know where I’m going with this, you’re a smart girl.” It’s taking a lot of effort to keep herself from giggling at the absurdity of her tale.

“O M G, she’s totally pregnant!”

“Yeah! That’s what I was thinking too. See, I could feel you were smart.” The girl’s got a beautiful smile on her face, it’s almost like she’s never been praised before. _Oh god, poor girl._ “Between us girls, do you know of any pregnant women around here? I promise I won’t tell anyone you told me. Like, I don’t even know your name… Can you help me out?”

The gears spinning in her head are almost tangible. Looking around and behind her. “Okay, you so didn’t get this from me, yeah? But, like, I heard my bosses gossiping about someone getting knocked up; like not with her husband—if you know what I mean.”

Max gasps and completes her act with a hand gesture to mimic shock. “Totally, yeah.”

The girl moves closer in a conspiring way and puts a hand next to her mouth to whisper. “Virginia Clayton. Oh! Now I know why everyone was talking behind her back when she moved in with this other guy. That’s probably her baby daddy. Cliff—something, don’t know his last name.”

“Wow, seriously, you are a true lifesaver. I promise if someone asks, this conversation never happened. Thank you so much! You’re exceptionally clever, I can see you in charge of this place in a couple of years. Have a good day!”

Seeing her blush at getting complimented makes it all worthwhile. “Gee, thanks, I… uh. I hope you have a good day too. And good luck!” Giving her a genuine smile and a small wave, Max leaves the store with the stuff she bought. She saunters back to the hotel while her mind reruns the entire conversation. Once she reached the hotel and grabbed a snack, she sent a text to let Logan know which hotel and which room. Still two hours away.

Virginia Clayton and Cliff.

What are the odds she would put things public on Facebook? Turns out it’s pretty high. There are still pictures from her high school prom dance. _Ahh, the wonders of Facebook._ Virginia, aged 29. Got married to Jason Mortimer four years ago. Did a lot of bake sales for that same school she went to prom. Teaches English. At that same school, again. Relationship status changed from married to it’s complicated. Picture of an echocardiogram, something peanut-like in it. It’s complicated changed to in a relationship. Moved to a new house, Jackson Drive 472. _Sure, why would you NOT share your address with the whole world?_ Status changed to in a relationship with Cliff Wilson.

Virginia Clayton and Cliff Wilson. Jackson Drive 472.

Checking it out on the map, the house is all but in the center of where all the victims have been found. _Bingo!_ After descending into social media hell, Max has gone through a couple of the snacks by now. Logan should arrive in an hour, give or take. Might as well take a nap.

\ \ \

Soft knocking on the door wakes her up. Dream long forgotten before she can sit upright. Lumbering to the door, she squints through the hole. Logan. After undoing the lock, she swiftly opens the door for him. “Hiya, Logan, how’s it hanging?”

“’ Sup, Max! All’s good. Come here.” Before she can even register what’s going on, he’s enveloped her in a hug. “Dude, you look like you been sleepin’ for five years.” Returning the hug, she yawns in answer. “Hah. How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in about a year!”

While stepping out of the hug, Max closes the door. “Same as ever, I guess. Still alive, that’s something.”

“Right on. So, rugaru.” Logan takes a seat at the table. “Gotta level with you, I’m kinda stoked about this one. Haven’t hunted a rugaru in six years.” Max takes a seat next to him and points at the keys to his room. “Thanks.”

“Wanna go over Maeve and mine’s research?”

“Absolutely. Sorry I couldn’t help out with that, drove here as fast as I could.” His face all scrunched up in worry about not having helped kind of makes him look like a sad puppy.

“No problem, man. I’ll grab everything we found.”

After re-reading everything and going over the map, the two of them come up with a plan. The easiest plan there can be. Stake-out at Virginia and Cliff’s home. Follow Cliff when he goes out. Get him somewhere alone and end him.

Everything went according to plan.

Until it didn’t.

There were no lights on in the house when they arrived in Logan’s jeep. Plausible; it’s not even three o’clock on a Saturday. Around half-past four, a woman with a little baby bump arrived and went inside.

Virginia Clayton.

No Cliff.

Five o’clock.

No Cliff.

Six-thirty.

No Cliff.

Max and Logan agreed to stop waiting around. Max went to the house, pretending to be Homeland Security. Virginia was extremely interested in the ‘compensation for people who suffered from emotional distress caused by the recent animal attacks’. Turns out, Homeland Security needs both partners’ signature to receive the money. Unfortunately, _agent Durand_ had to leave this town in a couple of hours. With money on her mind, Virginia told her all about how she had seen her boyfriend’s car (a brown Honda) parked at a house two blocks down. He had said something to her about helping someone build some shelves.

And so it came to be that Max and Logan stood outside said house, next to the brown Honda; smelling the air. Both shared a look and sighed. They went through the gate into the garden, careful not to leave fingerprints. At the very back lay something shaped like a human body—burned to a crisp. Too late. Someone else got to Cliff first.

Both stand entranced in silence until Logan whispers _fuck._ Max hooks her arm in his and leads him away. “We have to get out of here in case someone called the police.” On the way out, Logan kicks one of the Honda’s tires in frustration. “I know, buddy, I know. Let’s go back to Virginia and tell her there was no one home. That way she won’t send the cops after me when she finds out. At least, I hope so.”

After a short drive, they arrive back at the house. Max tells Virginia she’s sorry she couldn’t find Cliff and is sad to say they’re no longer eligible for the compensation. After offering a polite goodbye, she joins Logan in the jeep. “You know that kid inside her has got his genes, right?”

Max, knowing the implications of Logan’s words, turns to him and exhales before answering. “Yup. You gonna kill a baby? Or a pregnant woman?”

“Nah dude, don’t think I could.” Logan says while looking at Max with sadness in his eyes.

Max looks down at her hands and tries to imagine how it’d go down. “Me neither.”

“She’s not a monster and for now it’s just a kid.”

“For now. Let the kid live a little first. I’ll let Maeve know to keep tabs on the kid when they get older. How about we go hunt rugaru together again, in let’s say… twenty years?”

“Deal. Let’s hope that one goes as chill as this one.” Logan snaps his fingers. “How ‘bout a drink?”

Both are now grinning like children who found out where mommy hid the candy. “Oh, definitely!”


	3. Chapter 3

They kept passing bars that looked as if they didn’t have many customers at the moment. More chance of conversations being overheard. Don’t want that in the hunting business. _How many bars can one small town have?_ When they find one where the parking lot is filled to the brim, Logan pulls over. After finding a parking spot, they stroll next to each other in silence to the entrance. Logan opens the door and Max walks in after him; to be bombarded with sound, warmth and all kinds of smells. She adjusts for a couple of seconds until she spots Logan, who’s waiting for her on a stool at the bar—keeping a stool occupied for her with his hand. Not feeling like sitting down yet, she stands next to him and signals the bartender to come over. “Any preference?”

“Whatever’s on tap’s fine, thanks, Max.” He gives a curt smile while he checks out the room behind him. More importantly the people in it.

Max pokes Logan in the arm. “Seen anyone that takes your fancy yet?”

“Mehh, night’s sti—“

The bartender knocks on the counter to get their attention. “Oh hello, we’ll have one beer from the tap, one coke and some fries, please.”

“All right. It’ll be a few minutes till the fries are ready.”

While Logan’s checking out the bartender, Max gives him one of her warmest smiles. “That’s ok, take your time.” He smiles back at you and ignores Logan who scoffs. “Awhhh, poor Logan.”

“Like I was saying, night’s still young.” The bartender places both drinks on the counter and Logan puts some bills next to them. Taking advantage of the bartender still being there, he says something loud and clear. “Got plenty of time to get his number.” Professional as he is, the bartender walks away with a slight smile at the corners of his mouth. “Yep, that one takes my fancy.” While taking a gulp from his beer, his eyes wander to the other end of the counter. “Hang on, I know those guys. Let’s go say hi.” Max grabs her coke and follows behind Logan, who is once again, already there. _Damn him and his long legs._ “—know who got that rugaru! Dude, I was so pumped to get that bastard.” His frame blocks most of the view of the guys he’s talking to, so Max takes a step to stand next to Logan. “You guys have to meet my hunting partner of the day, this is—“

“Max!” Sam looks excited at meeting her again, while the other one, Dean, keeps staring at her with a stoic face. _Oh great, the big leagues got our kill._

“Hiya, Sam. Marilyn.” At least, that got a tiny smile to break Dean’s facade.

“Marilyn? No, his name’s Dean, Max. You know each other?” Max nods at Logan. “Oh great!” The bartender places her order of fries on the counter, which Max takes with haste. “Max? Would you mind if I go after that fancy we talked about?”

Max fakes being hurt before smirking at Logan. “Go get your fella. Have fun.”

Logan pulls her in for a quick hug and leaves without another word. “So, Max. Uhm, we can grab that booth over there, if you want to join us?” Having her hands full of fries and a coke, she nods.

Sam and Dean get up and hurry over to the booth. _Great, long legs to follow after. Again._ Max makes her way through the crowd, careful not to drop anything. “Here, let me take that for you.” Dean tries to grab her fries with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Not falling for the trap, she pushes her coke in his hand. His face goes blank again, as if she’d done something preposterous. “I wasn’t gonna steal your fries!”

Sam laughs. “He so was.”

Max takes a seat across from Sam and Dean, takes off her blazer and places it next to her. “Marilyn, you should know this.” Max shoves a fry in her mouth. “Never try to take food away from a hungry hunter. That’s hunting 101.”

“Whatever, master Wayne.”

“Damnnnn, Dean. Better watch out, a girl could get used to being called master.” Shooting him a quick wink, she notices him swallow before looking at his beer. “So, you guys got our rugaru. Logan was looking forward to it.”

Dean interjects. “The way I see it, last time we met, you got our vamps. This makes us even, don’t it?”

Max appears to be thinking it over before she shrugs her shoulders. “Ok. Is this the part where you guys ditch me then?”

Sam laughs. “No way.”

Dean scoffs. “It’s still up for debate.”

Max continues eating her fries while Dean savors his beer. Sam takes the opportunity to ask some questions. “Logan’s your hunting partner? How come you were alone last time?”

Dean leans in closer, seeming interested in the answer as well. “Nah.” Max takes a sip. “Don’t have a regular partner. Sometimes I go with one of the hunters I’m renting a room at. Circumstances dictated that they couldn’t come with, so. Logan. More often than not, I go alone but I don’t mind either way.” As Max eats some more fries, the brothers raise their eyebrows at each other. “How did you get our rugaru by the way? We were staking out his place for hours.”

Sam seems eager to explain how they did it. “We found the guy through the cameras at all the crime scenes. Tracked his car and staked out his place from 9am to 14pm when he left for his next victim. He lucked out when his meal ticket wasn’t home and we showed up.”

Running her hand through her hair, Max lets out a long sigh. “We started at 15pm. Fuck.” She finishes her coke. “Don’t tell Logan.” Both nod at her. “I’m gonna get another drink, you guys want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Max takes her wallet from the inside pocket of her blazer and gets up. She hasn’t set four steps before she overhears some asshole talk shit to a waitress. “Can’t you give us a smile, bitch? Or are you one of those lesbians?”

“The FUCK did you just say to her?”

“Mind your own fucking business, cunt.” The waitress turns around and walks away.

Max steps in front of him while Sam and Dean watch her with open mouths. “Absolument pas, _connard_.” The guy has no idea what she said and starts to say something else but the words never leave his lips. Max floors him with a punch to his right temple. KO. His drinking buddy is having none of it, takes out a knife and stabs her from the side, in her right upper arm. “Putain de merde!! Seriously?” Max pulls out the knife without thinking and points it at him. By now, Sam and Dean are standing next to her. “This is mine now. You gonna stand there and wait for me to use it?” Glancing at his buddy on the floor, the guy holds his hands up and bolts.

Blood dripping down her right arm and in need of fresh air, she walks out of the bar. Dean is right behind her, though she didn’t notice him until he stepped in front of her. “You ok?” Looking up in his worried eyes, she confirms with a soft _yeah_. All the adrenaline has left by now. “Fucking badass, you hear me? Damn. I’m gonna take your knife now, ok?”

She breaks eye-contact and looks straight forward to center herself. Dean’s chin is on her eye-level. “Wasn’t gonna stab ya.”

Sam walks out, carrying their bags, her blazer and the wallet she didn’t even know she dropped on the floor. “I know, Batman, making sure you won’t stab Sam.” After hearing her snort, he takes the knife and puts it in the pocket of his jean jacket. He takes hold of her arm and examines the wound with great gentleness. “Sammy, grab something to stop the bleeding.”

Though it’s a medium-sized wound, she’s losing blood and no small amount. “Dean, that’s going to need stitches.” Sam wraps a bandage around her arm and keeps pressure on it.

“Can you guys drop me off at my hotel? Logan was my ride here and he’s trying to get some fine booty plus I can stitch myself up.” Max doesn’t even notice she’s been leaning on Sam for support. The brothers study her. Then they look at each other, coming to a silent agreement.

“Listen up, we live close by and have an infirmary. We can clean the wound and stitch you up properly. You don’t know what kind of dirty assholes that knife’s already been in—”

“Gross, Dean.”

“—and you can get a good night’s sleep while you’re at it.”

Max closes her eyes as she ponders her options. Infirmary sounds good. Not sleeping in a hotel bed sounds good. That still leaves the matter of her things at the hotel. When she opens her eyes again, she looks straight into Deans. “I’ll go with but I can do the stitching myself. What about my stuff? I have to check out by morning. They’ll throw my stuff away.”

“I’ll drop Sam off on the way, if you give him the key to your room he’ll grab your things.”

“Coat pocket. Fox hotel. My car?”

“Sam can drive it to our place. That ok with you, Max?”

“Yup. Let’s go, time’s a-wastin’.” Sam chuckles and Dean rolls his eyes while he turns around. Sam supports Max the entire way to the car. While Dean pops the trunk open, he takes the bags from Sam and puts them inside. “Sheesh. Nice car! I’ll try not to get too much blood on your seats.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Sam opens the backdoor and helps Max inside while sliding in next to her to resume putting pressure on the wound. “You still doing ok?” Dean settles in his seat and starts the engine, casting a furtive glance in the rearview mirror before taking off.

Some faint AC/DC starts playing in the background. “Yeah, Sam. Hurts like a motherfucker though.”

Sam smiles in sympathy. “Maybe next time; don’t get into bar fights?”

Shrugging causes pain to burst out in her arm. “How else am I supposed to treat a bastard like that? He had no right to talk to someone that way and I’d do it again. Just didn’t see the knife coming in time is all.”

Dean coughs. “Famous last words, ain’t they?” Max gazes at him when he takes another look in the mirror. “We’re here, Fox hotel. You got her keys, Sam?” Dean drives on to a random parking space.

“Yes, room 10. Okay. Max, promise me you’ll keep a decent amount of pressure on your arm. It’s not that far to go now.” Making a bit of a show of it, Max grabs her arm with her left hand and smiles at Sam. “Great. That’s good. Keep doing that. Now, which car is yours?”

Taking a glance around, she spots her car and points to it with her chin. “That [grey Toyota](https://www.toyota.com/imgix/responsive/images/mlp/colorizer/2020/rav4hybrid/1G3/1.png?bg=fff&fm=webp) over there.” Dean makes a gagging noise while Sam gets out of the car. “Awhh, you don’t like my car. How will I ever recover?”

“A hybrid? Seriously?”

“Wanna know something else? Listen closely, this will blow your socks off.” Dean turns around in his seat and looks at her in annoyed anticipation. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s an automatic.”

Dean deadpans. “Ugh. Why.”

“Because I wanted it that way, duh!” He turns around and takes off again. They drive in silence for a few minutes, both looking at the scenery. “Is Sam always such a mother hen?”

“Trust me, mother hen doesn’t even come close to describing it.”

“Hah. I’ve got one of those at the place I’m staying at. She’s about 9 years younger than me and mothers me like it’s her day job. Means well, though.”

“Yeah, Sammy’s a good kid too. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get under my skin every now and then.” They pass fewer and fewer buildings until it looks like it’s the middle of nowhere. Max was almost nodding off to sleep. “You still holding on back there?”

“Huh? Yeah. Just getting tired, I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’m heading in our garage now.” Max forces her heavy eyelids open as they drive inside. The lights were still on and Dean parks his car. When she blinks again, Dean is trying to pick her up. By instinct, she struggles back. “Hey, it’s okay, just helping out so you don’t use that arm.” Max relaxes and allows him to continue. Once she’s outside, he helps her stand. “Stubborn ladies, please follow me to the infirmary.” If she weren’t so tired, she would talk back. And roll her eyes. Definitely roll her eyes. Repeatedly. Yet, all she can do is drag her feet, one by one. “In here.”

She stumbles over to the gurney and leans on to the edge with her hip. She tries shuffling further to no avail. Dean having noticed helps her. _Damn sleepiness. Damn stab wound. I’m turning into a sloth._ “Thanks.”

Dean humors her; even though she is barely awake, he’s curious to see how far she’ll get. He hands her the antiseptic on a cotton pad and squirts some on the wound. She’s so tired she doesn’t even respond to the sting. “Were you speaking French earlier? Before you punched that guy?” She focuses on him for a few seconds while she presses the cotton on the wound. When that’s done, she nods in answer. “So… you’re Canadian?” She shakes her head. He tosses the cotton pad in a trash can. “French?” Shakes again. He gives her a threaded needle. “European?” Again no. “Huh. You’re definitely an alien then.” This time she nods yes. “And a funny one as well, who would’ve thought.”

Max tries to plunge the needle at the edge of the wound but doesn’t seem to be able to pierce the skin. She tries six times. She fails six times. _Fuck._ “Ok.”

“Ok?” Dean’s taken the needle away from her while she keeps regarding him. “Ok, as in you’ll let me stitch you up?” Exhausted, her nod next to imperceptible. “Lay down and go to sleep, Max, I’ve got you.”

Max lays down on the gurney. _Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t f—_

She fell asleep.

* * *

Sam enters the infirmary while Dean is close to finishing the stitches and puts their stuff on the floor. Max is sound asleep on the gurney. “She finally caved?”

Dean huffs. Twice. “Stubborn as hell is what she is. Kept jabbing the needle nowhere near the wound, it’s a good thing she was falling asleep or she’d have a whole lot more puncture wounds by now. I mean look at her, she’s sleeping through it. Used the silver needle by the way. Can you grab the holy water?”

“Dean, she’s obviously not a monster.”

Dean challenges Sam. “It’s called being thorough, seeing as you didn’t do it last time.”

“Whatever, Dean.” Sam grabs a bottle out of his bag and squirts it over her left hand. “See, nothing to worry about. Her car’s an automatic, by the way.”

“I freaking know. Who the hell drives without a stick?!” Dean finishes the last stitch and dresses the wound. Once done, he places her arm across her stomach.

“People have all kinds of reasons not to drive stick, Dean. It’s perfectly acceptable.” Dean crosses his arms and exhales. Sam holds back laughter. _Dean and cars, like that’ll ever change.”_ Did she, you know, talk? About anything?”

“You wanna gossip, Sam? I’ll buy you some magazines tomorrow.” Ignoring Dean’s jab, Sam takes a look at Max, still asleep. Dean sighs. “She acknowledged she spoke French to the bastard. Asked her if she’s from Canada or France. Denied those. Too knackered to get a proper answer.”

Sam feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and takes it out. “Hm. You can ask her again tomorrow if it’s important to you. I texted Logan earlier to let him know we took her home to help with the wound. Got his answer now. The owner of the bar called the cops on the guy for harassing staff. The coward who stabbed her was nowhere to be found. And he gave them a different name and description of what Max looked like so she’s safe.”

Dean gently picks up Max and points with his chin at Sam. “That’s good of Logan. Which room should we put her in?”

Sam picks up their stuff and hers. “Uh. I think 15’s decent.” Sam heads out the door and into the hallway, Dean following some steps behind. Sam turns on the light in room 15 and is swift in inspecting it. _Not too bad._ “All right, the room’s fine.” Sam places the items he’s carrying on the desk and rolls the blanket on the bed down. Dean walks in, positions her on the bed and takes off her shoes. After placing the shoes next to the bed, he tucks her in while Sam takes their bags from the pile on the desk. _It’s nice seeing Dean so gentle._ Dean’s looking at her sleeping form. “Do you think she’d want to stick around? In the bunker?”

Dean spins on his feet to look at Sam. “You getting sick of just ol’ me, Sammy?”

Sam hands Dean his backpack. “I didn’t say that. She knows the lifestyle and we could have extra back-up out there. You know, since Cas isn’t always around? Besides, someone else to talk to would be nice as well.”

Dean walks out in the hallway. Sam shuts the light off and finds Dean waiting. “We’ll see. Night.”

“Night, Dean.” Sam watches Dean walks two doors down, towards his own room. Right before he opens his door, he casts a glance in room 15’s general direction. Thinking. Considering. He walks inside and closes his door without making a sound. Remaining hopeful Dean will come around, Sam closes room 15’s door and leaves to get some sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Lights turn on with a flick of a finger. “Hello, Dean.”

Hurtling awake, he finds Castiel standing next to his bed. “Dammit, Cas!”

“I’m sorry I woke you, Dean. I received your prayer earlier.” Cas looks at Dean, worry apparent in his kind gaze. “I was under the impression it was urgent?”

Dean casts a glance at his clock. Five in the morning. _Urgent, my ass._ “Took you long enough then.”

Cas levels his gaze, seeming unfazed by the snide comment. “Both you and Sam were in no immediate danger.” Dean gets out of his bed, yawns and stretches his arms. “I did come as quick as possible.”

Dean exhales. “Yeah, Cas. I gathered as much.”

Castiel takes a seat on Dean’s chair. “She’s not a threat.” Dean gestures for him to continue. “I don’t sense any danger coming from her. I would like to heal her wound but it’s probably for the best if I ask her first. Will she be staying here for a while?”

Running a hand through his hair, Dean thinks about it. “Sam wants her to stay. We just met her though, how can we trust her—just like that? Trust’s gotta be earned.”

“I don’t understand. You both have allowed her in the bunker already.” Cas tilts his head to the side as he studies Dean, now pacing. “Is my confirmation she does not pose any danger not sufficient?” Dean comes to a standstill. “If she is amenable, I will ask to examine her mind. Would this be enough for you?”

Dean waves his fingers around. “Mind melding, huh, Spock?”

Castiel sighs. “I have told you before, Dean, I don’t find it insulting to be called Spock.”

“Dude, I wasn’t insulting you! I like Spock!” Not bothering with a response, Cas waits. “Fine. If she agrees to it, you can do your mind mumbo jumbo. And I promise I’ll trust whatever you discover. Scout’s honor.”

Castiel gets up to stand in front of Dean. “Call me when she wakes.” Dean’s alone again. Muttering to himself, he turns the light off and crawls back into bed.

\ \ \

When he’s awakened by Sam, four hours later, it takes him a while to get out of bed. “Max is still asleep. I went out and bought some bagels if you’re interested.” At the mention of food, all sleepiness is gone and Dean’s on his way towards the kitchen; leaving Sam to cast his eyes upwards before following him. “Leave some for her? She’ll be starving when she wakes.”

Dean grabs the large paper bag and takes a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m not a caveman, I’ll leave her a few.” Dean opens the bag and practically inhales his first bagel. Sam takes a seat opposite Dean. “By the way, Cas popped up during the night. Says he doesn’t sense any danger from Max but to be sure he’ll mind-meld with her—if she agrees to it.”

“What—We’re not in Star Trek, Dean.” Sam says while Dean continues eating with a goofy smile. “What if she won’t allow Cas to check her mind? Are you going to kick her out?”

Dean’s finished consuming his second bagel. “Way I see it, if she refuses, she’s got something to hide.” A third bagel finds his way into Dean’s mouth.

Sam scoffs in disbelief. “Everyone’s got something to hide. Why are you so hesitant about this? About Max?”

“I’m just not as trusting as you. Someone’s gotta keep a level head.”

“I know it’s hard to trust people, Dean, I do. Especially with our past; but you have to start somewhere, man.” Sam runs his fingers over the edge of the table and sighs. “Logan trusts Max enough to hunt with her. Cas feels no danger from her. She defended a waitress and got _stabbed_ for it. She trusted us enough to come with us, while wounded.” Dean’s chewing on the remnants of his third bagel while allowing Sam to say all he needs. “I don’t know man, it’s enough for me.”

Dean lets Sam’s words sink in. “If Cas clears her, she can stay and we’ll see from there. If not, I’ll tell her it was just to help her out for a night.”

“Why do I even try? As usual, you’re being a thickheaded a—“

“Who is Cas?”

* * *

It’s not that she wanted to eavesdrop on them; the droning buzz of their voices woke her from a sound sleep. After a solid minute of trying to open her bleary eyes, she rolled to the side and winced at a twinge in her arm. When she got past the pain enough, she ambles towards the sound, not bothering with her shoes. _Might as well use the opportunity to listen in…_ When they kept mentioning someone named Cas, her curiosity took over and led her to interrupt their conversation. “Who is Cas?”

Both heads swivel towards her. Eyes wide. “I believe I’ve mentioned it before… You guys. Are. So. Loud.” Rubbing the last sleep away from her eyes, she asks again. “So, who’s Cas and when do I have to meet them?”

Dean’s the first to recover from being caught ‘gossiping’ and decides to be honest. “Cas—Castiel is an angel. He can check your mind to see if you’re a potential danger. To us, to anyone. He won’t do it if you don’t agree to it.”

Quickly processing the part where they casually talk about knowing an angel. An actual angel. Max decides to look out for numero uno. “What’s in it for me?”

Sam laughs and looks at Dean. “We should have led with that part, Dean.” He swivels back to Max. “We were going to ask if you wanted to stay here, at the bunker. I mean, you did say you were renting somewhere. You can stay here if you want, we don’t charge rent.”

“In this economy? You had me at rent.” She points to the seat next to Sam, Dean nods for her to sit down. “When can I meet him?”

Dean squints his eyes at her. “Just like that, huh? No questions? Nothing?”

“I did ask a question, twice. _When do I meet this Castiel?_ ” She smirks at Dean. “To be honest, you guys do know other hunters describe you as troublemakers, right? I’m going to choose to ignore that and trust my gut. Which is hungry. Can I get some of that, please?” Max does her best impression of puppy eyes while pointing at the bag on the table.

Sam and Dean chuckle while Dean shoves the bag in her direction. Max takes a bagel out while trying to hide she’s holding her wounded arm as still as possible. Her entire face lights up when she bites into it. Dean finally answers her question. “I can call Castiel anytime and he’ll be here in a second. So when you’re ready, I’ll call him. It’s a precaution because we’ve been betrayed before. You have to understand, we can’t just let anyone in here.”

She swallows the last piece and looks at both of them. One serious and calm. Dean. One with a remarkably better puppy face than her. Sam. “Go ahead, looking forward to meeting an angel. Heard they’re all dicks though.” After blinking twice, there’s a man standing next to her. “Oh hello, you must be Cas. You ready for me, big guy?”

Dean coughs while Sam hides his laugh. The angel looks at her but doesn’t speak. Out loud that is.

_< <Nice to meet you, Max. I hope you don’t find this too intrusive, it allows us some privacy.>>_

_< <It’s quite weird. But also not. What do we do now?>>_

_< <I will sift through your mind, look at your life and search for any harmful tendencies towards humans or specifically my friends over here. It won’t hurt and will only take a second. If you so desire, I can heal your wound in the process.>>_

_< <Woah. Back it up a little. You’ll know everything about me? My past?>>_

_< <Yes, that is correct.>>_

_< <Can I bribe you into keeping my past to yourself?>>_

_< <Bribing won’t be necessary. They did not ask about your past, therefore I see no reason to share it with them. Should they ask in the future, I will direct them to you. Whatever secrets you hold in it, they are safe with me. As I have told Dean earlier, I sense no danger from you.>>_

_< <Ok. Ok. Thank you. And here I thought angels were assholes!>>_

_< < Truth be told, most of us are, in fact, assholes. I look forward to continue proving that statement false, at least concerning myself. As for your wound, shall I heal it? Your arm will be as good as new and I could do the same for any old injuries.>>_

_< <I—I don’t know. No offense, I’m weirdly okay with all this mind stuff, but the healing part is freaking me out.>>_

_< <I understand. If you ever change your mind, let me know. Are you ready?>>_

Max and Castiel have been staring at each other for two minutes now. Making all kinds of facial expressions. Smiling at each other. Not one word gets uttered. Dean and Sam keep looking between both of them, like a game of tennis.

_< <Bring it. I’ll try not to think about puppies too much.>>_

Max winks at him before he places his index finger on her forehead.

_< <I don’t mind. Now, relax.>>_

When Max exhales, Castiel has seen everything that has ever happened to her. All the cases she solved. The ones she failed. The people she lost. Those she found. Those who found her.

Her life before hunting.

_< <I understand now. This is interesting—to say the least. You have my word everything is safe with me. I do wonder how long you will be able to hide this from them. Though I’m positive if you ever wanted to share your story, they would understand too.>>_

_< <Thank you, Castiel. It’s been a while since I’ve told anyone. Years. I don’t like talking about it. This is an easy way to get it over with… For now, I’d like to keep it to just you. Now can you please tell them I’m trustworthy; before my pride gets hurt?>>_

_< <Of course.>>_

Cas removes his finger and places his hand on her shoulder before looking at Dean. “Maximilienne is no threat to either of us. She can be trusted, as I said before.”

Beaming with knowing she was right, she expands on the reveal of her first name. “Oh, full disclosure, guys. My name’s Maximilienne Dubois. But, I prefer Max.” Cas takes a seat next to Dean.

Dean and Sam try saying her name a couple of times until Dean addresses her. “Dewbi—Doubis, whatever, you couldn’t have picked an easier name?”

“Ah, come on. It’s easy, I’m sure you can get it right someday.” Restraining from giggling, she settles for a grin. “Can I have another bagel?”

Dean raises his eyebrows with childlike glee. “Sure, Miss Dudu, have at it.”

She scrutinizes Dean for a second before shrugging with one shoulder. “Dudu is not the worst I’ve heard, I’ll accept it, for now.”

Sam addresses Castiel. “Did something go wrong with the healing, Cas?”

Cas casts an apologetic glance at Max. Dean examines Max’s every little motion. “I asked Castiel not to do it. The healing part isn’t something I feel comfortable with.”

Sam nods in understanding and Dean speaks up. “It’s probably for the best if you try to cut down on the getting stabbed part, then eh?” Rolling her eyes, she eats the rest of her bagel.

“That might be a good idea. Anyway, I’ve got to write down how our hunt went. You coming with me, Cas?”

Sam and Castiel get up and walk out of the kitchen while Dean continues. “By the way, Sam let Logan know you came with us. Logan gave the cops some false descriptions, so you’re in the clear.”

“Of course I’m in the clear, I didn’t stab anyone.” Max scoffs at the thought.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem. So, are you actually good with staying here? Don’t know if you noticed last night—you were pretty out of it—but this is a bunker.” Dean motions with his arms around the room.

She fidgets with the empty paper bag in front of her. “Not afraid of being in a bunker if that’s what you’re worried about. If anything, it’s you guys I should be worried about.” Dean looks at her, questioning. “The Winchesters! Granted, I hadn’t heard about you guys before the cabin. Did some askin’ around and heard you guys have a habit of attracting the BIG monsters.”

“Then why’d you come with us last night?”

“Honestly?” She scrunches up the paper bag with the one hand. “Logan.” Dean takes the bag and throws it in the trashcan while Max follows its trajectory with her eyes. “He wouldn’t have left me with people he doesn’t trust. He may be a bit of a weirdo sometimes but he’s got excellent skills when it comes to who to trust.”

“Yeah, he’s extremely young but sometimes it seems he’s lived seven lifetimes when it comes to judging people’s character. We only met him two years ago.” His glance turns to the side; reminiscing.

Max snorts. “If you think he’s _extremely young_ —I must look like a child to you.”

He snaps his gaze back to Max. “What? No offense, but I don’t think you’re younger than 22.”

Max snorts again. “Logan told you he’s 22? And you believed him? The dude’s 39.”

Dean’s sitting with his mouth open in disbelief. “No way he’s only two years younger than me. No way.”

“Yes way. I’ve hunted with him a couple of times over the years, trust me, he lies about his age all the time. I think it’s a test of some sort. When I met him, he said he was 19. A couple of days later he told someone he was 30.” She raises her eyebrow at him, with mischief in her eyes. “Wait, you’re 41? Gosh you’re an old fart.”

“What?! I’m not old! Wh—“ Having noticed her hiding a smile behind her hand, he deflates his reaction. “Very funny. Hilarious.” Crossing his arms, he does his best to stop a smile from forming at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t succeed. “Younger than Logan, huh?”

“This old fart’s ten years your junior, it seems. That still makes you the oldest fart.”

“Nuh-uh, Cas is the oldest fart in the bunker. 31 though? I thought you were 25—at most.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Do keep trying, though.”

Dean sits a little bit straighter. “I’ll keep that in mind. How’s the arm? You need any painkillers?”

Having ignored her pain by eating and talking, it’s getting harder to do so. “Now that will get you places. Yes, please.”

Max follows Dean out in the hallway. They walk next to each other to the infirmary. Inside, he opens a cabinet and triumphantly shakes a pill bottle in front of her. She opens her hand and he places two painkillers in her palm. “You need some water?” She nods at him and he fills a glass in the sink. As soon as she puts the pills in her mouth, he hands her the glass. When she’s swallowed them, he takes the glass back and puts it upside down in the sink.

“Thanks.” Dean is leaning against the counter while Max fidgets with the hem of her t-shirt. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t too keen on letting me stay inside the bunker before Castiel cleared me. I do appreciate it, helping me out yesterday and letting me stay here rent-free. The second you change your mind, you let me know. Yeah?”

Dean shrugs. Smirks. “We get to live with Batman now, don’t we?” Max laughs. “Look. I trust Castiel’s mind stuff. Let’s see how things go. I’m not opposed to you being here. Yet.” He winks at her. “Come on, let’s go see what the nerds are up to.”


	5. Chapter 5

In the hallway, Dean points out how the layout of the bunker works. They find Sam and Castiel in the library. Both sitting at a large table, one’s typing furiously on his laptop while the other’s smiling at something on his tablet. Dean turns to Max and talks loud enough, making sure the others can hear him. “Told you they’re nerds.”

Castiel exhales forcibly, Sam turns around in his chair, fixes his gaze on Max and ignores Dean’s presence. “Congratulations! You survived a couple of minutes alone with him!”

Hearing Dean blow a raspberry, Max laughs as she walks towards the table. “Survived being alone with him last night too.” Curious to see what he was smiling at, she takes a seat next to Cas. With an adorable smile he continues scrolling through turtle memes. “Is there a medal I can collect for my glorious achievement?”

Dean sits on the edge of the table while Cas speaks up without looking away from his tablet. “One could argue survival is a medal in itself.” Sam and Max look from one to the other before cracking wide smiles.

Dean sighs. “That’s great, buddy, thanks for having my back.” Then he turns to Max. “You see what I have to put up with? These nerds are always ganging up on me.”

“Awhh, Dean. Is this you askin’ me to be on your side? Hmm. I guess I’ll have to accept… only because you left me some bagels.”

“And stitched you up. And got you some good painkillers, don’t forget.”

“Fine, fine. Team Batman and sidekick Marilyn Monroe is a go.”

“No way. You’re the sidekick in this team.”

“No. Master Wayne is the boss. Everyone knows this.”

Castiel looks up from his tablet. “Sam, did you put something in their bagels? They’re acting strange, to say the least.”

Sam holds both his hands up while everyone looks at him suspiciously. “No! I guess they’re just weird people.”

“Still beats being a nerd.”

“You’re a nerd too, Dean.”

“Whatever, Sam.”

Sam tries changing the subject. “Anyway, speaking about Batman. We have a gym if you’re interested. I can help you find a workout routine or maybe do some running together?”

“Yeah. That’s a hard no, sweetie. Thanks, but I don’t work out. Ever.” The thought alone makes Max cringe visibly.

“That’s okay, if you change your mind…” A hopeful smile on Sam’s face.

“I won’t. Thanks for offering though. So, what else do you guys do when you’re not on a case?”

“Well, let’s see. Cas is always busy _somewhere_.” Cas exhales. “Sam’s always readin’ something and I watch old movies or go to a bar.”

Castiel turns to Max to point something out. “When they aren’t doing any of those, they bicker.”

Sam and Dean speak in unison. “We don’t bicker.”

“They bicker.”

“Ugh, you make us sound like grumpy old men.” Dean turns to Max. “Don’t listen to Cas. You said you were staying with a younger woman, you think you can get used to living with us?”

“Oh. The place I’m renting at. It’s actually four younger women.” Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows raise. “They bought a house together to share costs. Two of ‘m hunt as well, I met them on a case a little over a year ago. I was moving from hotel to hotel. When they got to talking about their spare room, they asked if I was interested and I moved in the next day. Huh. Kind of like this situation, isn’t it?”

Sam smiles. “It does sound familiar.”

Dean fixes his gaze on her. “Does this mean you don’t stick around in one place for long?”

Max looks up at him. “No, it doesn’t. I want to stay in one place but I’m sure you both know hunting doesn’t come with a paycheck. Me being able to afford something like that hasn’t been on the menu.”

“Sam can hook you up with a credit card and a nice amount on it.”

“Oh, is that right? I didn’t think you had it in you, doing anything less than legal.”

“You do know I’m a hunter, right?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Yup. You just seem… very correct?”

Dean interjects. “That’s a nice way of putting it. Plain old goody two-shoes is more like it.”

“Nawhh, nothing wrong with that, Sam, keep being your beautiful self.” Sending him a playful wink, Dean huffs. Sam smiles. “I’ll be looking forward to my credit card then.”

“I’ll get you one by tomorrow.”

“Sweet!” Max theatrically bows towards him and grimaces when she feels a slight sting in her arm. “When my arm heals, I’ll have to go get my stuff. It’s not much but it’s mine.”

Castiel turns towards her. “I can take you there in a second.”

“Uhm. Take me there. As in transporting, ‘Beam me up, Scotty’ style?”

“Not quite. I promise you it doesn’t hurt. You might experience a bit of nausea at first.”

“Ok. I think I can manage that. Still leaves the question of what I’m gonna do with my stuff. Can’t exactly carry it and I wouldn’t expect that of you.”

“You can point out what you want and I will _beam_ it up to your room.”

“Oh wow. That’s a handy skill to have. Reckon I could learn that somewhere?” Cas shakes his head apologetically. “Worth a try. I’m free right now if you wanna go?”

Cas places the tablet on the table and touches her arm. Max looks into his eyes, concealing a hint of fear. When she looks to her surroundings she’s standing in her room and feels a lurch in her stomach. Steadying herself she looks back to Castiel. “You’re going to be okay in a second. Breathe. When you’re ready, could you stop squeezing my arm?” Snapping herself out of it, she releases his arm from her death grip.

“Sorry.”

“No problem, it is quite impossible for you to cause me harm like that. I was worried you would harm yourself.” Both of them are now looking around. “I thought you said you didn’t have much stuff…”

“What? This isn’t much! What are you talking about?”

“Compared to both Sam and Dean’s room, this is much.”

His reaction causes her to look around again. Two bookcases filled to the brim with books and DVDs. A stack of books on the floor. Another stack at the foot of her bed. Notebooks on her desk. Clothes on her bed. A chair covered in clothes. _What else would I use that chair for?_ A closet with the rest of her clothes, shoes and bags. “Nahh. It isn’t that bad. Besides, I have to cram everything in one small room while they have an entire bunker.”

“It’s still a lot for one person. Why do you own eleven different handbags?”

“Castiel!” Standing with her left hand on her hip, she narrows her eyes at him. “Don’t judge me like this, man! I’m sure you have accumulated a lot of stuff over the centuries.”

“I—I don’t collect items. Which things do you want transported to—”

The door bursts open and one tiny woman runs inside with her mouth wide open. “Max! What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On. How did you get inside? Logan told me all about the job and that you got stabbed! Why aren’t you wearing any shoes? And who is this? What’s happening? Is he threatening you?”

Taking a step towards Maeve, Max places her left hand on Maeve’s cheek and looks down in her worried eyes. “Mavs, you gotta breathe sometimes, you know? Nod when you’re calm enough to listen, okay?” After a minute of looking panicky between Max and Castiel, Maeve nods. “You’re doing great. Don’t freak out but Castiel behind me is an _actual_ angel. Surprisingly not as big an asshole as we’ve been told but he did judge me on the amount of handbags I own. So, there’s that.”

A confused voice emerges from behind her. “I was merely curious as to why, I wasn’t judging you.”

Maeve is now clutching Max’s hand on her cheek, silently conveying her worry for Max. Max smiles softly at her and turns her head towards Castiel. “I bought them because I liked them and I wanted them, it’s as simple as that.” Cas nods and Max turns back to Maeve. “I’m fine. He’s not a threat. I got stabbed, yes, but only a little and I’m all stitched up now. I guess I forgot to put on some shoes. Cas transported us here to come pick my stuff up.” Maeve’s eyes grow wider in question. “The hunters who stitched me up offered me a place to stay, Mavs, rent-free. You know as much as I do, I was barely making rent every month so you understand why I took up their offer, yeah?”

Maeve nods. “Logan told me the Winchester brothers took you home. Please tell me you’re safe with them.”

Max hugs her with one arm and whispers in Maeve’s ear, suspecting Cas can probably hear every word. “I promise you I’m safe with them and Castiel. Don’t worry too much, sweetie.”

“How can I _not_ worry about you? You’re like my younger sister.”

“Very funny, _old lady_. Do I have to remind you I’m eight years older than you?”

“Only in age, kid, only in age.”

“Look at the nerve in you! Pft. In all seriousness though, please be careful with choosing a next tenant, yeah? I know you won’t find one as awesome as me.”

“Does Miss Awesome need help moving all her stuff?” Maeve squeezes Max a little bit before letting go and looking her in the eye. “I can call the girls if you want.”

Max points at Cas, still standing behind her. “Got myself some free Angel Moving Service. Supposed to be real quick, I’ve been told. How about it Cas?”

Cas tilts his head to the side as he glances between both of them.“You haven’t answered my question yet. Which things do you want to take with you?”

“All of the things, Cas, all of the things. Except the furniture.” Cas exhales and for a second it seems as if he’s going to roll his eyes. Instead, he snaps his finger and they’re standing in a room void of items. “Wow. That’s awesome! It better not be at the bottom of the ocean, please.”

“Why would I clutter the ocean? I took the liberty of putting _all_ your clothes in the closet. I must admit I’m quite amazed it could all fit inside.”

“Are you sassing me, Cas?”

Maeve tugs at Max’s sleeve, causing her to turn around. “I guess this is goodbye? If you ever need to get out of there, call me and I’ll come get you as soon as possible.” Maeve’s lower lip trembles.

Max kisses Maeve’s forehead. “Maeve, this is a ‘see you around some time’, yeah? Besides, you’ll have enough trouble with the others now that I’m not here to soak up all your attention.” Max kisses her head again. “Don’t forget to look after yourself too.” Maeve, tears streaking her face and unable to talk, smiles at Max. Max tries to swallow the lump in her throat. Her voice comes out croaked. “All right, Cas, I’m ready now.”

Maeve hugs herself as Max turns around and heads towards Castiel. He places his hand on her shoulder and they’re back inside their seats in the bunker. Four bottles of beer are standing on the table now, two already opened. Sam and Dean stare at them, waiting. Castiel squeezes her shoulder and speaks up. “She is going to be fine, you know?”

Max wipes away the single teardrop that was starting to form in a corner of her eye. “Yeah. She’s fierce as hell. I just—I need a minute, I’m going to my room.” Max gets up and walks out of the room in search of her own. Having chosen a random exit, she’s in the hallway looking around and having no clue which way to go. “Fuck.” Unable to stop her tears, she leans against the wall and tries to muffle her sobs.

“Hey wait up, you went the wrong way. Oh. Uhm.” Trying to hide her tears, she turns her back to Dean. Worried about him judging her. “Max.” His voice softens. “Come here.” His fingers apply pressure to her shoulder before he turns her around with gentleness. After a small huff of air, her face’s pressed into his warm chest. Arms wrapped around her, careful to avoid her injury. His chin resting on her head. A hug. Exuding comfort and support. “You’re gonna be okay. Let it all out.” Giving in, she wraps her arm around his torso. Fingers grasping his solid form; tears flowing freely. After spending minutes in silence while Max calms down, Dean asks a question. “Did Cas say something hurtful? He doesn’t mean it you know, he’s—“

“What? No? No.” Max steps back and releases her hold on him. She looks up at him with puffy eyes. “I—It just hit me is all. A lot of different feelings at once. I wanted to keep it up in front of Cas but when I saw Maeve with tears in her eyes…”

“The mother hen?” He asks quietly. Nothing but understanding in his eyes.

Wiping the remnant tears away with the back of her hand, she smiles. “Yeah.”

“You want to be left alone?”

“No. Not really.” She casts her glance down at his t-shirt and notices it’s wet. She points towards the spot. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, you want to grab a beer? We can get new ones in the kitchen.”

“Thanks but I don’t drink, actually. I’ll come with you though.”

Dean gasps and places his hand on his hip. “Not ever?” Max shakes her head. “Why? Now we have to kick you out! Sammy’s going to be devastated.”

Max laughs softly. “Where I came from, we only drank alcohol when we lost someone. It’s as if I get a bad taste at the back of my mouth when I even consider having one.” Deciding to lighten the mood, she mock-punches his chest. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t be devastated? My trusty sidekick has just broken my heart. I will never be the same again.”

He looks offended. “Sidekick?! I hadn’t even agreed to anything yet! I was going to say we could be partners in crime before Cas interrupted.”

“I’m not partnering up with you if you’re kicking me out right after.”

“Fine, no one’s getting kicked out.” Dean holds his hands up in surrender. “And I’ll make sure Sam buys some other beverages too. That good with you, partner?”

Studying his enthusiastic face for a second, she notices she doesn’t feel the lump in her throat anymore. “Deal. Partners in crime it is.”


	6. Chapter 6

After being told how to navigate the bunker—again—Max followed Dean into the kitchen. While he grabbed a beer, she glanced in the kitchen cabinets; memorizing where everything’s placed. When she found a stray green tea bag, she exclaimed a loud _bingo_. Dean showed her where they kept the water cooker and put it on for her.

Water close to boiling and Dean sipping from his beer while Max chooses a mug. “You feeling better? Sam always says crying is supposed to make you feel better after. I don’t know, he’s the sensitive one.”

“I—Uhm.” Max ponders it for a second. The water cooker pings and she fills her mug while answering. “Yeah, I feel relieved, I guess. Emotions can be overwhelming, you know?” Dean remains silent. She turns around and he nods towards the open door, where Cas and Sam are entering. “I think I used the last tea bag, guys, sorry.”

Sam and Dean smile. “Well, Sam’s the only one who drinks the nasty leaf water.” The four of them stand in a wide circle, Dean and Max leaning against the counter. “Oh by the way, Sammy, you need to put other drinks on the grocery list ‘cause this one doesn’t drink any alcohol.”

Sam looks at Dean with a small hint of disbelief. A second later he looks towards Max, who nods in answer to the apparent question on his face. “Yeah, sure. Any preferences?”

Without thinking about it, she tells him the first thing that comes to mind. “Rosehip tea.”

Confusion on Dean’s face. “Rose what now? Is this a hipster thing?”

“It’s just herbal tea, Dean.” Sam takes out his phone and starts typing. “Oh, if possible, could you get some dried or fresh mint leaves? And lemons?” Dean mumbles about leaf water people while Sam keeps typing and nodding along.

“All right, if you think of something else, let me know.” He says while pocketing his phone. “Actually, I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask, if you don’t mind.” Max sips from her tea and motions for him to continue. “Some weeks ago, at the lake… how _did_ you get rid of the vampires on your own?”

“Hmm. Take a wild guess.”

Dean crosses his arms. “There were no vampires. It’s the only explanation.”

Max scoffs and gives him an incredulous look. “There were nine, to be exact.” Dean’s eyebrows lift.

“Did you dump the bodies in the lake?” She turns backs to Sam. “Maybe weighted them down?”

Max chuckles and shares a brief look with Cas before turning her gaze back on Sam. “That’s a good guess.”

“Is that how you did it?”

Before she can answer, Cas speaks up. “Let’s just say… she’s got her ways.”

“Oh come on, you have to tell us how she did it, Cas.” Dean stomps his foot. “This isn’t fair!”

”Now now, boys, Cas knows the same will happen to him if he snitches. Let a girl have _some_ secrets, yeah?” She winks at Cas while taking another sip.

Cas smirks at Max. “Truth be told, I would like to see you try that.” Cas studies her for a few seconds; measuring her up. He turns to the others. “Guys, let it go.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Dean turns towards Max. “Promise you’ll tell us someday, yeah?”

“It’s still up for debate.”

A ringing cell phone turns everyone’s heads towards Dean, who takes it out his jeans to look at the screen. Debating it for two seconds, he answers the call. “Garth. What’s up?” Max continues drinking her tea. No one told her to leave, so she listens in—as do the other two. “Yup. Where?” Dean exhales while making eye contact with Sam. “Text Sam the details. We’ll leave in five.” Both Sam and Dean’s entire demeanor changes from curious to serious. “Pack your gear, Sammy, we’ve got a couple of demons running rampant half an hour from here. They’re going from house to house, killing everyone inside.”

Sam swallows. “Okay. I’m on it.” He turns around and exits the kitchen.

“Are you in need of my assistance, Dean?”

“And mine?”

Dean holds up one finger and addresses Castiel. “One, we’ll call you if we need back-up.” Adding a second finger, he turns towards Max. “Two, you’re injured and since you’re prone to getting stabbed—you’re sitting this one out. No discussion.”

“But—“

“We could prove valuable on this job, Dean.”

“Yeah, what he says!”

“No discussion. Keep her company, Cas, and get her some food.” Brushing past Cas, he rushes out of the kitchen.

Max, feeling disparaged, huffs. “As if they never get stabbed a little. Goddamn bastards. Thanks for sticking up for me, though.” She rinses her mug and places it on the rack.

“Should they call on me for assistance, I could accidentally shake your hand at the exact moment I leave to join them.”

“Castiel, you magnificent angel, I love the way you think.” Max holds her left hand up, which he high-fives with a beaming smile. “Should we see them off or something? I mean, they did just sideline the both of us…”

Cas holds his head to the side as he seem to think over his options. “Dean did mention something about getting you fed. I know a nice diner, if you’re interested?” Max nods along happily. “I think it’s proper to wear shoes there, though. Maybe a t-shirt without blood stains, too?” Having been on a rollercoaster since getting stabbed, Max hasn’t had the time to take in her appearance or change her clothes. He snaps his fingers and she’s wearing her black t-shirt and her white chucks. Her hair appears to have been combed out too. Gasping out loud at the weird sensation, she giggles soon after.

Castiel holds out his hand for her, just as Dean and Sam enter the kitchen. “All right, mon ami, let’s have some fun!” Both not bothering to acknowledge the others, Max and Cas nod at each other and are at the entrance of the diner in an instant. “This place looks nice. After you.”

Cas walks inside and Max follows behind. He chooses a table by the window and takes a seat while Max takes one opposite him. Max reads the menu while Cas checks his phone. “Dean wants to know where we took off to.” Max looks up from her menu. “I’m inclined to let him wait a while. Can you put your number in here? Just in case? I’ll send the number to Sam and Dean as well.”

“I wholeheartedly agree on letting him wait a bit.” She takes his phone and inserts her number. “I’ll just send a text to myself so I can add you when we get back to the bunker. It’s still in my bag, I think.” While sending ‘max is awesome’ to herself, a waitress approaches and inquires what they want to order.

Castiel sits straighter and answers. “I’ll have the turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich with coffee, please.”

Max places Castiel’s phone in the middle of the table and while he takes it back, she gives her order. “Hiya, the chicken salad and some iced tea, please.” After taking notes, the waitress picks up the menus and leaves. A speck of black in the far distance grabs Max’s attention. “I’ll be damned. Isn’t that their car?”

She points with her chin towards it and Castiel turns to have a look. “Yeah. I’ll send Sam a text message.” He takes out his phone and says out loud what he’s typing. “Diner on your right. Window seats.” As the waitress brings their drinks, they thank her swiftly before turning their gaze back to the window. The black car slows down while driving past, slow enough to notice Sam curiously searching the windows. In the background, Dean’s paying attention to the road. When Sam spots them, he waves with exuberance. Castiel waves back and Max raises her drink at him. Dean looks for all of two seconds to grant them a tiny smile before soaring off again.

“Friends of yours?” The waitress is standing next to their table with their food. Cas nods. “Here ya go, folks. Enjoy!”

Both thank her and delve into their meal. “Damn, Cas. This is great. I mean, it’s _just_ a chicken salad, but fuuuuuck! You sure know how to pick a place. You come here a lot?” She continues eating with her left hand, letting her injured arm rest on the table.

Cas swallows a bite of his sandwich. “Quite often, yes. In truth, this is a neutral meeting ground for angels.” Max opens her mouth at the revelation, quickly recovering, she closes it. “In here, we do not converse about everything that goes on out there. About the ever ongoing war, that is.” Max takes a closer look at some of the people in the diner but cannot ascertain who’s an angel or not. “We just… talk; like humans do. I quite enjoy it. And no, there aren’t any of my brothers or sisters present at the moment.”

“That’s good for you, man. Glad you have this place.”

“I agree.” Cas studies her movements for a second. “How bad is the pain in your arm?”

Taking a gulp from her drink gives her a second to really feel how bad it is. “If I don’t move too much, it’s like a dull ache. As soon as I use the muscle, it starts throbbing and the pain amplifies. I’ve had worse, though, I’ll manage.”

“I know you can handle worse, that doesn’t mean you should.” Opening his hand, he shows her a bottle of painkillers. “I believe these are the ones Dean gave you. I trust you to take them as you see fit.”

Taking the bottle from his hand, she sees they are indeed the same ones. “Thank you, Cas. I’ll take one later.” Struggling to get the bottle in the pockets of her pants, she gives up and places it back on the table. “I swear, pockets on women’s pants are the Devil’s handiwork.”

“No, they are not.” Snorting at his deadpan delivery, she continues eating while he takes the bottle back and makes it disappear. “It’s on your nightstand.”

“Thank you.” They fall back into a comfortable silence while they finish their meal.

Max left to use the bathroom and upon her return, Cas informed her he paid the bill. “At this exact moment, the orchestra in the next town is practicing Bach. Would you be interested to join me?”

“Please tell me it’s the cello suites?” Cas nods. “But wait—are we even allowed to walk in on their practice?”

“Not exactly… but as long as they do not see us, they cannot ask us to leave.” Intrigued by what he means, she offers her hand to him.

In a blink, they are sitting in plush red seats, in an opera house. Max gazes around with her mouth open. Castiel moves his finger to his mouth to implore Max not to speak. He takes out his phone and types out the following. [invisible, not inaudible] Max makes the ‘ok’ signal with her hand and relaxes back with her feet propped up on the seat before her. Castiel copies her movement.

After enjoying the music for hours, the group decides to call it quits for today. Still a few lingering on their seats; Max motions for Cas to take out his phone. She types a question. [is this what you do in your free time?] Cas smiles softly and answers back. [among other things, yes. I do savor the solitude sometimes] Max takes the phone back. [do the boys know?] Cas sighs and shakes his head. Max smiles sadly. [thank you for sharing this with me]

Cas gives her a genuine smile before grasping her arm and taking them back to the bunker’s kitchen. “If I may say so, you seem to adapt to your new situation fairly… quick.”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I’m still on guard but the bunker? It kinda reminds me of home.” They walk out of the kitchen into the hallway. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. Do you miss it? That place?”

Shuffling her feet on the ground, she looks down while answering. “I’ve gotten used to, let’s say, the change of atmosphere.”

“If you so desire, we can get you back there.” Close to the door of—if she recalls correctly—the library, Cas stops.

Tilting her neck to look at him, Max takes a breath. “No. I came to terms with my fate years ago. I’m okay here.”

Castiel’s face radiates compassion. “You left a lot behind.”

“ _A lot_ of it was awful.” No longer willing to see the look on his face, she casts her eyes to the side. “I didn’t choose this, but I do choose to remain here.” She scratches her chin for a second and glances back at Cas. “I think I’m going to take a nap, thanks for today.” After receiving a genuine smile, she walks towards her room. Inside, after managing to open the bottle, she takes two painkillers. Max lays down and is dead to the world in ten seconds; shoes and lights still on.

* * *

After getting rid of the three demons with ease, they went back to the bunker; to find it empty. While Sam went to take a shower, Dean started cleaning his weapons in the library.

As soon as he heard familiar voices in the hallway, he tried to make out what they were saying. Most of it was incomprehensible, so he closed his eyes in an effort to enhance his hearing. Castiel’s voice rings clearer as he seems to be getting closer. “…we can get you back there.”

“No. I came to terms with my fate years ago. I’m okay here.”

“You left a lot behind.”

“A _lot_ of it was awful.” A beat of silence. “I didn’t choose this, but I do choose to remain here.” A few seconds of silence again. “I think I’m going to take a nap, thanks for today.” Opening his eyes, he watches Max walk past an entrance of the library, head cast down. Taking mental notes of the conversation; he resumes cleaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading this fic!   
> I'm almost catching up to everything I have written so far but I'll do my best to update weekly.


	7. Chapter 7

Drums reverberating inside her head. No, pounding on a door. No, it’s only soft knocking on a door. Her door. Being woken up from her heavy, dreamless sleep; it takes a while for Max to come to her senses enough to sit upright. Glancing around in her room in the bunker—which remains spotless as she hasn’t even walked around in it—her eyes fall on the two figures standing just outside her door; peaking their head inside. After blinking a few times, she’s awake enough. “What’s wrong?” She clears her raw throat.

Both seem to be suppressing their laughter. _What’s so freaking funny?_ “Is it alright for us to enter?” Sam asks formally.

“Uhm. Sure.” They glide inside and stroll towards her, laughter still hiding at the corners of their mouths. Max shifts her legs on the bed to give them space to sit. Dean takes a seat at the end of the bed while Sam sits on the desk chair. “What’s going on?” Apprehensiveness coats her voice.

Dean coughs and addresses her. “Had a good night’s rest, did you?”

“Wh—yeah, I did, actually.” Casting glances between both brothers, she shifts into a cross-legged position and gives them both a hard look. “Please tell me what the hell’s going on? And why are you looking all weird at me? Spill it. Now.”

Sam and Dean hold up their hands defensively at the same time. Sam’s quick to diffuse the situation. “Woah, calm down. Nothing’s wrong, Max.” They lower their hands. “We were worried about you... you slept for almost 26 hours.”

Dean snorts. “And your hair’s standing up, kinda makes you resemble a cockatoo.” He snaps his fingers at Sam. “Damn, we should have taken a picture, Sammy.”

“For fuck’s sake, assholes!” She quickly flattens her hair with her hand. “You made me feel like I did something wrong.” The movement of raising her hand to her head inadvertently made her smell herself; not remembering when the last time was she had the opportunity to wash up. _Ugh, gross._ “If you’re done messing with me, I’m gonna take a shower.”

“About time.” Dean chuckles while Sam bursts out in laughter.

Getting out of the bed, she searches the closet for clean clothes. “Assholes, the both of you.” She places the clothing on the desk, next to Sam. “Do you guys know where the hell Cas put my toiletries?”

Noticing she still has her shoes on, she removes them by stepping on the heel and wrangling her foot out. “Someone’s grumpy, isn’t she, Sam?” Leveling Dean with a death glare, her stomach starts rumbling. “Ohhh, she’s just hungry, that’s it!”

Ignoring Dean for the moment, she turns to Sam. “Sam. Your brother’s asking for a punch in the dick, isn’t he?”

“Uhh. I’m not getting between you two. I’m out of here.” He gets up, walks out and shouts something from the hallway. “I saved you some dinner!”

“Thank you, Sam!” Max shouts back triumphantly. Faking anger, she turns back to Dean, with a hand on her hip. He’s leaning back on his arms—enjoying himself. “Now, Dean, you’re going to tell me where my toiletries are… or I’m gonna find my newest knife and I’ll ask you again. And by the way, what the hell happened to being partners in crime? Dick move, man.”

Dean sits up straight and smirks before answering. “Just messing around, _partner_. Your toiletries are already in the bathroom. You remember how to get there?”

Max exhales. “Yes.”

Dean getting up and coming to a standstill makes Max wonder what’s going on inside his mind. He moves again, to come stand before her, tilting her chin with his index finger. “But seriously, are you doing okay? You were out for a long time.”

Watching his slightly parted lips, Max found herself wondering what he tasted like. Mentally shaking the thought from her mind, she lifts her gaze into his genuine eyes and feels assured. “I’m good, yes. Guess my body was exhausted from the last couple of days. It’s been a lot.”

“You can say that again. Now go shower, you stink.” Releasing her chin, she rolls her eyes at him.

“Remind me to tell you every time you stink, Dean. You’ll be reminding me almost daily.” Smelling his own arm pit, his face scrunches up. “Case in point.”

“Mehh, I’m still good for a while. Unless you want me to join you in the shower?” His right eyebrow goes up in question while his mouth forms into a grin. Max starts laughing, grabs her clothes and leaves her room. “Is that a yes?” His shout goes unanswered as her laughter rings throughout the hallway.

In truth, she left as fast as she could to hide the blush creeping up her neck.

Grinning at his cheekiness, Max finds the bathroom and slowly takes her clothes off; tossing them in the clothing bin. Removing her bandage, she is glad to see the stab wound doesn’t look infected. Finding a bag of her toiletries in the cabinet next to the sink, she takes her shampoo and body wash out. She almost hops in the shower. Placing her bottles on a rack in the shower, next to the other bottles, she turns on the water. Her entire skin bursts out in goose bumps due to ice cold water and she runs back out. _I’m such an idiot._ A sling of curse words leave her mouth while she waits for it to turn warm, occasionally putting her hand under the stream. After about two minutes, she gets under the scalding stream and releases a sigh that turns into a moan when it hits her back muscles. Standing there for a long time, one arm steadying her on the wall, just letting the stream of water relax her muscles. The hot water stings on her wound but she doesn’t care.

She takes her sweet time washing herself with her products that smell of peonies. After rinsing herself, she finally gets out of the shower and uses towels out of the cabinet to dry. Hanging them on the drying rack, she gets dressed. She had picked easy clothes to put on—panties, a bralette, a red tank top, black sweatpants and some fluffy black slippers. Leaving her hair wet to air dry, she walks out of the room with a lighter step than before.

Going in the wrong direction first ( _no one saw, so it never happened_ ) she found the kitchen. Her stomach greeting the empty kitchen in its own way… with thunderous grumbling. Max pops open the fridge and finds a container filled with veggies, baked potatoes and roast chicken. Someone, probably Sam, had cut everything in small pieces for her. Taking it out, she shuts the fridge with her foot and glances around until her eyes fall on the microwave. Deciding to heat it for a short while, she grabs a fork and leans on the counter; waiting. Making a mental note to get a fresh bandage for her wound.

Ping.

Waiting a few seconds to take the container out, she places her fork in it and carefully takes it out with one hand. Balancing it in her hand for a second, she makes her way to library as the others seem to be there most of the time. Finding them at the grand table, they turn their heads in unison. “She lives!” Dean shouts.

“Hell yeah, she does.” Max says back at him. Sam stands up to move the seat next to him. “Thank you, Sam. The food looks and smells great by the way. Hey, where’s Cas?” Placing the container on the table, she sits down.

“It’s my pleasure. Cas had to go, he’ll be back when he can.” Sam assures her.

Starting on her food, she enjoys the taste and has to restrain herself from eating like a caveman. “Real fucking good, Sam.” Hunching over, she continues eating while Sam smiles and Dean reads something on his laptop.

Sam inhales a sharp breath. “Wow. Can I take a look?” Not knowing what he’s talking about, she turns to see him pointing at her back. She shrugs and nods her consent. She moves her hair out of the way and resumes eating.

Dean, now curious what’s going on, stands up to come inspect what’s going on. His whistle echoes throughout the room. “Damn, Max. Can we see it completely?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Dean gently lowers the fabric of her tank top and bralette while Sam moves closer. “Huh. You got a second anti-possession tattoo?” Sam asks; surprised.

“You don’t? This one is in case they chop my foot off.”

Dean huffs. “I don’t see it, what are you talking about?” Sam points to a tiny orange pentagram, hidden between the wings of a giant red phoenix, spread across her right shoulder blade. Dean traces it with his fingers, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Well, that’s cleverly hidden. You expecting to get your foot chopped off anytime soon?” Dean releases the fabric.

Swallowing a piece of carrot, she rolls her eyes while Dean resumes his seat across from Sam. “Never know with those bastards, just thought it was a good precaution. Already had the phoenix before I started hunting, so it was simple to get a small detail added.”

Sam interjects. “When did you start hunting?”

“About six years ago, give or take. You guys?” She starts chewing on a piece of potato.

Dean answers before Sam gets a chance. “Ever since we were kids.”

“So, why _don’t_ you guys have a second pentagram tat? If you’ve been hunting that long…”

Sam chuckles. “Never crossed our minds, I guess. We both got one on our chest.” Sam pulls down his shirt to show her. Inspecting it, she hears Dean clear his throat. Turning to him, he’s showing his tattoo in the same manner. “It’s not as pretty as a phoenix but it does its job.”

Her gaze lingers on the flames surrounding the pentagram on Dean’s chest. “Nah, they’re nice too.” Dean smiles before releasing his t-shirt from his grasp. “Oh, I was wondering if either of you could help me out with putting another bandage on my arm. Or tell me where I can find fresh bandages in the infirmary?”

Dean stands up. “I’ll go get one.” He practically runs out.

Sam curiously watches him leave and brings up another subject. “I got you that credit card I was talking about. It resets every month.” He searches and finds a blue card between a pile of books on the table. “Here you go.”

“Nice! Really, Sam, thank you so much.” Sliding the card in the pocket of her sweatpants, she gives him a beaming smile. “I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, but how did the hunt go? The demons?”

Sitting up straighter, he starts talking while Dean enters. “Well, it was over really quick. Must’ve been some lower demons, they were very easy to kill.” Dean clears his throat when he stands behind Max. She turns around and Sam looks at him. “You got the bandage? I’ll do it.”

“I can do it just fine, Sammy.” Sam smirks and nods. Dean sits down on one knee and gently grasps her arm. He shows the wound to Sam. “Look at that Sam, some fine ass stitching if you ask me.”

“It’s not bad, Dean.” Sam exhales. “The wounds does seem to heal well, Max.” Sam smiles reassuringly while Dean puts a fresh bandage over the stab wound.

“Thanks, guys.” Dean smiles kindly and resumes his seat. “I have a stupid question, but where are we exactly? Like the position of the bunker? I don’t remember paying enough attention when Dean drove me here.”

“Oh, right! Hang on.” Max eats the last few bites of her meal while Sam takes out his cell phone and opens a map. “I’ve sent a pin of the location to you. Uhh, Cas sent us your number earlier.” He shows her the map which she zooms in and out on. She thanks him and hands his phone back.

Sitting back in her seat, causes a jolt of pain to hit her; making her remember the evening at the bar. “Dean.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Where’s my knife? You know, the one that got jammed in _my_ arm?”

Dean smirks at Sam. “What knife is she talking about? You got any clue?”

Sam catches on. “There are loads of knives in the kitchen… You need a bread knife or something?”

Max, not amused, stays silent. Waiting till they’re finished. “What could she need a bread knife for? It’s not like she can use both arms to cut some bread. Ooh! Maybe she’s got a knife fetish!” Wiggling his eyebrows at her, she remains unmoved.

“I don’t know, Dean. She looks more like cheese knife kind of person.”

Dean and Sam study her for a second. “Maybe you’re right.”

Keeping up her best poker face, she pretends to be fuming. “Or maybe I’m an _I’ll stab you with a fork in the ballsack_ kind of person.” She takes her fork and waves it around. “So, be good boys and bend over, please.”

Watching their bewildered faces is great fun. Dean recovers first. “You wouldn’t.”

“Tell me where my property is and you’ll never have to find out.” Sam snorts and Dean smirks. No longer willing to continue this fake-angry persona, she snorts, causing the others to laugh shortly. “Please don’t tell me you lost it?”

Sam and Dean share a brief look before Dean addresses her. “Hang on a sec.” He walks over to a small rectangular cardboard box, laying on a nearby shelf. Grabbing it, he turns back and places it in front of her. Confusion apparent on her face, Dean pins her with a gentle look. “Sam and I thought you’d like this, as a welcoming gift so to say; so I went out and got it—when you were sleeping all day. Go ahead, open it.” Looking into his eyes, she notices he’s proud of what he got for her. She nods at him and opens the flaps on top. Inside the box is a black leather sheath, her knife inside of it. The leather is adorned with a floral pattern along the edges. Taking it out, she feels the embossing texture with the ridges of her fingers. “You like it?” Snapping her eyes up to him, she can feel the anticipation rolling off of him in waves. “It’s okay if you don’t, we can get you another one. I even disinfected the kni—“

“It’s beautiful, Dean.” She places her gift on the table, pushes her chair back and walks around the table to where he’s still standing upright. She envelops Dean in a bone-crushing hug with both arms; ignoring the pain shooting through her wound. He stiffens for a second before melting into the hug. Max speaks softly into his chest. “I love it, thank you.” Not even four seconds later, Sam clears his throat and they break up the hug. “Awh Sam, get over here.” Sam gets up and walks over to hug her. The big height difference makes it a tiny bit awkward at first, but the hug is over after a couple of seconds. “Thank you both, really. And I promise not to threaten your balls again. This week, at least.” Laughter bubbles up in all three.

After recovering from their laughter, Dean and Sam discuss movies while Max caresses the gift she received. Warmth blossoms in her chest. She has always been quick to adapt, to make herself comfortable around others but this must be a personal record. Their kindness makes it that little bit easier to feel at home in the bunker.

Home.

With a delighted smile, she joins their conversation about which movie to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading so far!!  
> Next chapter will begin with a small time jump (1 week).


	8. Chapter 8

Scouring online newspapers and social media—not one case to be found for days and days. It’s as if all the monsters took a week off. An actual ‘monster dry spell’.

A week for Sam, Dean and Max to get to know each other better.

Swapping stories about the hunter lifestyle. Listening to anecdotes about Mary and John Winchester. Castiel showing up for two hours and leaving in a hurry. Theorizing with the brothers about his whereabouts. Settling on the most outlandish one: he runs an ostrich sanctuary. Meanwhile, Max’s stab wound was healing nicely. Eight days after getting stabbed, Dean removed her stitches. No mobility issues—only soreness.

Even though she misses Maeve and the other girls, she never felt quite settled in their house. Always feeling like the odd man out whenever all of them were present at the same time. As if at any moment, they would decide she didn’t fit in and tell her to get lost. Always waiting for the shoe to drop. They never did and they are wonderful people, but the mind can conjure up strange things sometimes. She hasn’t felt like that in the bunker. The fact that she doesn’t have to worry about money helps a lot but it isn’t what puts her at ease.

It’s the _people_ inside the bunker.

Castiel—who knows everything about Max and all that happened to her. Who treats her like they’ve been friends for years from the start. Even when he’s supposed to be away doing who knows what, he still visits her in the evening or the night when he can. Talking about the most random and silly things. Always allowing her to guess once what he’s been doing. She hasn’t guessed right, yet.

Sam—passionately talking about things he read in a book or online. Sending her articles or funny stories that he knows she’d enjoy. Constantly amazed at how clever his mind is. Cooking the most appetizing meals; waiting with a beaming smile until both Dean and Max have tasted it. The kindheartedness evident whenever he talks about his family and his friends.

Dean—being grumpy in the morning until he’s had his coffee. Asking to taste her cup of tea, pretend to hate it and then proceed to leave with her tea. Coming back to put the water cooker on for her new cup of tea. Taking her car for a test drive and complaining to her the entire way about cars like these. Letting him get it all out—knowing he’s so going to drive her car again when he can. Picking up fast food for the both of them on the way back. Roping Max in to play jokes on Sam; exchanging knowing, childish glances the few seconds before Sam falls for one of their tricks. Those breathtaking green eyes. Asking her opinion on any topic; listening with rapt attention. His mere presence soothing her.

When Sam comes across an article about suspicious murders going on, he shares it with Dean and Max. All three of them get their bags ready. Not letting them sideline her again, she swiftly stole the car keys out of Dean’s hands. Both brothers exhale before smiling. “Fine. You can come along, but leave the heavy lifting to us, yeah?” Dean says with a tired voice.

“Deal.” Smiling like she won the lottery, she hands the keys back. She turns towards a grinning Sam. “And I call shotgun, Sam! Or are we driving there with two cars?”

“Uhh, I don’t think your hybrid can keep up that long in one go…” Sam’s GPS had estimated a six hour drive.

“Of course she can, she’s an absolute beast.”

Dean scoffs. “Max. We’re not letting you have your still-healing arm on the wheel for six hours.”

Holding up her hands, she concedes. “Fine, fine. I had already called shotgun anyways.” Lowering her arms, she grabs her backpack from the table and turns to them. “Ok, let’s go.”

Dean stops her. “Hold on. Aren’t you forgetting anything?”

Checking her bag, she shows him an energy drink, her phone, a tablet she had bought online and the knife she claimed when getting stabbed. “Good to go. How about you?”

Giving her an incredulous look, he turns to Sam. “Help me out here, Sam. Are you seeing this? She’s going out there basically unarmed… What the…” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose.

Sam’s examining look turns into a questioning one. “Do you even own any weapons?”

“Of course.” Max scoffs. “I have three knives.”

“THAT’S IT? Three knives? How have you survived this long?” Dean asks.

Chewing her bottom lip; mulling over how to explain. “Shit’s expensive, man. Where I was staying, we shared weapons. So, when I moved here, I only brought the ones I actually owned. And then there’s the one I earned from getting stabbed. Can we go now?”

Sam interjects. “We’re not letting you go out there without at least a gun!”

“What makes you think I _need_ a gun?” Max grins.

“What… Why would you not need a gun? Guns are awesome.” Dean asks and Max answers by shrugging. “Come on, you’re coming with us to the armory.”

Sighing out loud, she follows them. Inside, she finds a rack filled with weapons. Without thinking about it, she takes a random gun—a SIG-Sauer. “This is mine now.” Turning to the brothers, she holds it up in the air. “What color should I paint it?”

“You’re not painting our gun.” Dean deadpans while Sam looks at her, at a loss for words.

“Not ours. Mine. You wanted me to get something, so I got something. Can we go now, slackers?” Tapping her imaginary wrist watch, she waits for them to start moving. They stand still and stare at her. “What now?”

Dean crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “Why are you not taking any bullets, you know, to use with our gun?”

“I’m going to paint my gun emerald green. Maybe add some silver details. What do you think?”

“Nuh-uh, no changing the subject. Sam get her the silver-laced bullets. The rock salt ones too.”

“Fine, mom. I’ll take the bullets too. Gosh.” _And I thought I was stubborn…_ Max places her gun in her backpack and holds it open, while pouting, for Sam to put in the ammunition. “Oh. OH! I’m naming it Robin! Get it? Batman and Robin! This is going to be glorious.” Sam coughs to hide a laugh and Dean turns around, rolling his eyes.

After a short stop in the pantry, Max takes out her tablet before placing her bag in the trunk. Sam turns back out of the garage to grab some water bottles. Happy to claim the front seat, she joins an already waiting Dean in the car. She pulls an extra big Mars bar out of her hoodie’s front pocket. “We haven’t even left the garage and you’re already snacking.”

“You want half?”

“Obviously.” He waits for her to open the wrapper and break the bar in two, promptly holding the palm of his hand out towards her. Not even a second after it’s in his hand, it finds its way into his mouth. Silently snacking, they watch each other. She pats her front pocket to let him hear the crinkle of more wrappers. A twinkle enhances the vibrant green in his eyes. When he’s swallowed the last bit, he clears his throat. “You’re sharing every one of those with me, right?”

Finishing her snack, she pretends to debate it for a few seconds. “If I get to pick the music.”

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, he curses. “Ughhh.” He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

She pulls his arm down softly until he turns his gaze to her. “Please?”

Blowing a raspberry in her face, he concedes. “Okay, okay. Fine. Only on the way there, though. Or there’s no deal.”

Holding her hand out for him, he shakes it firmly. “Deal.” They hold on for a second too long, softly smiling at each other. When Sam opens the door in the back, they unlock hands. “Sam, Sam! I have fantastic news, my friend.” Settling down in the middle of the backseat, he hands them both a water bottle and awaits her next words. “Guess who gets to choose the music?”

Dean starts the engine and Sam looks from one to the other. “No way. How did you manage that?”

“Be careful with this one, Sam, she drives a hard bargain.” Putting his foot on the pedal, he slowly leaves the garage.

“This is groundbreaking.” Dean glares at Sam in the rearview mirror. “So, Max, what’s on the playlist for today?”

Scrolling through the playlists on her tablet, she’s silent for a while. “Aha! _One list to rule them all_. So, we’ve got some Queen, ABBA, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, Red Hot Chili Peppers, etc.” She pushes play and the first notes of ‘Rebel Rebel’ starts playing. She pulls on Dean’s sleeve until he glances her way for a second. “Not that bad, right?” He quickly nods before concentrating on the road again. With a lazy smile on her face, she relaxes in the seat and watches the scenery passing by.

\ \ \

Max and Dean shared five snacks and made a detour to a drive thru for some greasy food. Sam was happy with a salad. While most of the trip was spent in silence or the occasional humming or belting along to a song; the vibe among the three was extremely good. As if they’ve been friends for 84 years.

Five hours and forty minutes after they took off, they pull into a motel at the town’s edge. Sam had lulled to sleep four hours into the trip. Dean pulls up to a parking lot and Max turns around to gently wake Sam. Groggily looking around, he focuses on Max. “There he is. Come on, let’s go get a room.” Getting out of the car, several groans are heard, followed by some more groans when they stretch their legs and their back.

When everyone is relatively okay, they walk to the manager’s office. Behind the desk, they find a young guy, somewhere in his early twenties. “Hey, we need two or three rooms for two nights.” Dean exclaims.

Standing next to each other in front of the desk, the guy slowly inspects all three before settling his eyes on Max and addressing her. “Hey, I’m Brian. Where are you guys from?”

“Hey Brian, I’m Sofia. We’re from New York. My brothers and I are actually on a road trip all over the country.” Giving him a fake background story, just to be safe. “You got any rooms for us, Brian?”

“Nice, alright, nice to meet you. I’ll check what’s available.” Hearing Dean and Sam sigh, they turn around and start examining the place. Brian checks the computer while glancing at Max every three seconds. “Uhm. If you’d like, there’s a fancy restaurant in town, maybe I could take you to dinner tonight?”

In the background she hears a scoff and a chuckle. “Oh Brian, I’m so sorry but we’ve got a tight schedule to follow, including dinner reservations.” He looks at the floor with an indiscernible look before focusing on his computer for a few minutes. “Any luck with the rooms yet?”

“Of course.” Anger tinges his voice. “One room with two beds and a couch. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Snapping his words at Max, she’s taken aback by his sudden change.

Dean intervenes. “No problem at all, we’ll take it.” Max turns to join Sam who’s still chuckling.

He walks outside and Max follows him around the corner of the office. “But Sofia, you broke that kid’s heart!”

Max exhales. “He’ll live.” After a second she starts giggling. “Oh god, he was so angry.”

Dean walks out and joins them. “You can’t go breaking people’s hearts like that. What if he gave us a cockroach infested room?” Her giggling changes into full on laughter. “Let’s go, before he catches you laughing at him and kicks us out.”

Laughing the entire way to the room, she has to wipe the tears away a few times. Dean opens the door to a color explosion. Greens and reds combined with orange and purple. “Fuck.” They walk inside with their mouths open at the headache-inducing space. “Don’t suppose he’ll give us a better room if I go and ask him on a date now?”

“Don’t think so. I’m gonna grab our bags.” Sam says and leaves.

Dean sighs and sits down on a bed. “Not bad—if you keep your eyes closed.”

“Ughh, I need to pee.” After sitting in a car for so long, she finds her way to the bathroom. “What the hell?!” Dean runs in at the sound of her shout; to have his eyes bombarded with a bright orange bathroom, making it hard to see where the edge of anything is.

“My eyes are bleeding. You are so taking the couch, Max.”

“Argh, get out, I need to pee.” She pushes him out and closes the door quickly. Hearing his laughter ring through the door, she has to look a few seconds before finding the toilet. Relief flows through her at being able to empty her bladder. The fact she can clearly hear Dean tell Sam about the bathroom and sleeping arrangements means they also have thin walls. Fantastic. When she’s finished, she washes her hands and face. Leaving the bathroom, both Sam and Dean occupy a bed. Rolling her eyes, she walks over to ‘her’ couch. Which is in fact a tiny armchair. Not even if she folds herself in two would she be able to fit in it. Floor it is. Looking around the room, she mentally takes note to steal pillows from the boys later.

Sam is already busy on his laptop, so she sits next to him on the bed. “I’m just going over a few details. It’s too late to go hassle the police, we can go in the morning.” He pulls out three IDs from his bag. “These are our FBI identities. Milo Monroe, Brenda Wayne and Clyde Kent for myself.”

Snorting at his choice of last names, she takes the badges and examines them. “Superman, eh, Sam?” She pokes her elbow lightly in his side. “Suits you.” Giving his badge back, she tosses Dean’s badge towards him and he catches it with one hand. “Now, I’m supposed to go have dinner with my brothers, do you reckon they’re up for it?”

Dean perks up. “I can always eat, let’s go.”

\ \ \

During dinner at a local family restaurant, they discussed the case. According to Sam’s research there have been four deaths over the past four weeks. All victims were men in their late forties with beards. All died of strangulation, handprints visible on their necks. No other correlation to be found among the four. Two were locals, the other two were tourists passing through. Their loved ones had verified alibis. The only thing they can do now is talk to the local police and see how their investigation is going.

After a long dinner, with a delicious dessert, they drove back to the motel. Unconsciously, they stayed far too long in the restaurant—to avoid their room as long as possible.

\ \ \

Exhaustion setting in after a long drive and going over the case, they decide to make it an early night. “I’ll set the alarm for six so we can go to the cops around seven.” Sam says while changing into his pajamas.

Dean has his back to both of them, rummaging in his bag, while Max is taking off her clothes to change as well. “Way too early, Sam.” Dean turns around and has to refrain himself from staring. “Uhh, Max, you can change in the bathroom if you’re not comfortable around us…”

Standing in her underwear, she looks at him. Both brothers avert their gaze. “Please, we live together. If I wasn’t comfortable around you guys, I would not be standing here like this. Now, Dean, if _you_ don’t feel comfortable around us, you can change in the bathroom if you want.” Turning his words on him, she smirks and starts putting on her pajama pants.

Rolling his eyes at her, he takes off his shirt while Sam’s already getting under the covers. “Funny.” Casually checking him out, she notices he’s casting glances her way as well. Putting on her t-shirt, she removes her bra afterwards. Walking towards the beds, she notices Sam’s already asleep. So she turns to Dean’s bed and takes one of his pillows. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Hugging the pillow, she whispers. “Shhhh. Sam’s already out. You’ve seen the size of the armchair, you know I won’t fit in that ergo I’m sleeping on the floor. And I’m stealing your pillow to do so.”

“You’re going to sleep on a carpet that probably hasn’t been cleaned since they opened? No way, get in.” Now fully dressed, he opens the covers for her.

“So, now _you’re_ going to sleep on the floor? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be fine.”

Sighing, he whispers back. “No. We’re both sleeping in a bed. Don’t be ridiculous and get in.”

Sleeping on that floor does sound gross. “Fine.” She places the pillow back and crawls in. Looking at her for a few seconds, he turns the lights off and gets in next to her. Both lay facing each other. “Thank you.” Max whispers. Refusing to let him know how flustered she actually is, she turns on her other side. “Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Max.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 incoming as well :)


	9. Chapter 9

A ray of sunshine warming her back wakes her up. Lifting her head, she hits something solid. “Aw!” Realizing she’s wrapped in Dean’s arms, she shushes him and tries to escape his grip. “Stop. Why’d you hit me?”

Relaxing in his hold, she lets her hand wander to his stubbly chin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. Think I hit your chin with my head when I woke up. You okay?” She scoots up to look him in the eye and tries not to think about their legs entangled. His scent and warmth surrounding her.

He gazes lazily in her eyes and smiles. “Yeah, Max, I’m okay. Didn’t know you liked to cuddle in your sleep.”

“Pfft.” She makes sure to blow some air in his face, causing him to close his eyes for a second. “You’re obviously the one who cuddled me. I was facing the other way when I fell asleep.”

Chuckling, he crushes her further into a hug. “Go back to sleep, Max.”

“I can’t, I hit my head on a fucking brick wall. What time is it?” She tries to turn around to look at the clock on the bedside table but his hold on her is inescapable. “Dean.” She sighs. “You still going to deny you’re the cuddler?”

“Never denied it, sweetheart.” He tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear while she continues looking in his eyes; studiously ignoring her increasing heartbeat when he called her sweetheart with a sleepy voice. “Way I see it, we can get some more sleep before Sammy’s alarm goes off. Don’t know ‘bout you but I slept like a baby—until you hit me, that is.” His body heat and soft gaze are hard to ignore. Mentally debating with herself, she zones out. He releases his hold on her and shifts on his back. “Max. If it bothers you, you can sleep with Sam next time, okay?”

His vulnerable tone snaps her out of her thoughts, in time to notice a hurt expression turn into a blank canvas. “Wha—“

A blaring alarm sounds throughout the room. Turning on her side to face Sam, she turns on their lights. “Good morning Max, Dean.” Both mumble a good morning back. Sam’s already standing next to his bed and looking funny at them. “Good choice, Max. Didn’t think you’d fit on that couch. I call dibs on hot water!” Before either can get up, he’s already closed the door.

“Ugh. Long legged bastard!” Sam’s laughter is very audible. Knowing the room has thin walls, she crawls closer and places her hand over Dean’s ear before whispering in it. “It didn’t bother me. Now, stop moping, Dean.” She gets up without waiting for a comeback and starts to look for fresh clothes and her tablet in her bag. Placing them on the nightstand, there’s nothing to do but wait on Sam so she flops back on to the bed next to Dean.

Grabbing her tablet, she peruses some online stores while sitting upright against the headboard. Dean’s curiosity peaked; he sits upright and looks along. “What are you looking for?”

She continues scrolling along the handbags. “Just passing time, I guess.”

Poking her in the side, he snorts. “Cas told us about your handbag situation.”

“Nope. It’s not a situation.” Exhaling, she changes the filters to backpacks. “I do need a new and bigger backpack, that one’s already tearing at the seams.” She points her chin to her backpack on the couch.

“Hmm. We could use new ones as well, actually. Can you order me and Sam one too? Saves us having to go shopping. Yuk.”

Smiling at herself, she adjusts the filters to colors she likes. “Wrong words, Winchester. Now you have to come shopping with me sometime.”

“Nope.”

“We can get all the food you want at a mall too. It’s a win-win situation.” Turning to him, she can’t hide her eager smile. “Come on, just one time?”

Looking at the ceiling, he curses to himself. “Damn it. Fine.”

Deciding not to gloat on her win, she opens a backpack of her choice. “You like this one? We can all get one in another color.”

She hands him the tablet, to let him see the pictures and specifications. The movement causes their arms to touch; neither moves away. “Not bad. I’ll take the red one.” Sam leaves the bathroom in a sharp suit and looks for his shoes. “Sam, name a color.”

“Uhhh, grey?”

He adds their choices to the shopping cart, hands it back to her—and dashes into the bathroom. “Asshole!” She walks over to Sam and shows him what they’re buying. “Grey still good for you?” He hums in agreement. “I’m getting the navy blue one. Will look awesome next to Robin, don’t you agree?”

“Robin?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot about my gun already!”

Sam smirks. “Of course not. Great idea, Max. I’m gonna get us some breakfast.” Putting on his shoes and jacket, he grabs the car keys and is on his way out the door. “Be back in a few.”

While waiting on Dean—who’s showering forever—she orders the backpacks and takes another look at the handbags. Can’t hurt to take a look, right? Right. She might have ordered one. Or two. Yep, she ordered two. Handbags are one of the only things she’s never denied herself. Even when money was tight to the extreme, she allowed herself to buy something that she didn’t need. If only to not feel the smothering cloak of poverty around her for a few minutes. Even now, free to buy and spend, there’s that voice in the back of her head. Reminding her to count every single coin. Telling that voice to shut the hell up, she closes the web shop as Dean walks out of the bathroom, in a suit similar to Sam’s. “You’re in luck, they don’t seem to skimp on the hot water.”

“Awesome.” He takes a seat on Sam’s bed.

“Can I ask you something?” Grabbing her clothes, she stands in front of him; waiting. “I didn’t mean to look but I saw the scars on your knee. What happened?”

“I fell.” Grasping her clothes tighter, she notices the genuine concern on his face. She sits down on the bed behind her, facing him. “I fell from a height and landed on my knee. It took the full force of the fall. They did their best but they weren’t able to get it completely healed.”

Dean swallows and looks at her with sadness in his eyes. “Is that why you didn’t want to work out or run with Sam?”

“Yeah.” She looks down at the floor. “I literally can’t. I cannot run anymore. Sometimes it gets so bad, I’m practically limping. I should have told you guys before.” She exhales. “If it ever comes down to it, you guys have to run like hell. You have to promise me. I can take care of myself and I’ll find you later, okay?”

“We’re never gonna leave you behind because you can’t run!” Scoffing at the idea, he looks at the door.

“Dean.” She gets up again, and stands right in front of him. Clothes pinned between one arm and her side, she tilts his chin with her free hand. “Dean, I promise you that if you leave me behind in a scenario like that—I promise you, I’ll be okay. Please, don’t let me slow you down.”

Staring into each other’s eyes feels like he’s looking straight into her soul. “Okay, Max. I promise.”

Releasing the breath she was holding, she gratefully smiles at him. “Thank you. If you want, could you inform Sam? Saves me having to talk about it again.” Gently stroking his cheek, she lets go of him. “I’m gonna shower now.”

Groaning, he lets himself fall backwards of the bed. “Ugh, why isn’t Sam back yet. I need coffee.”

Laughing at him, she quickly walks in the bathroom.

After a short shower, she gets dressed in her standard ‘fed’ outfit. This time she combines her white chucks, dark blue chino pants and blazer with a white t-shirt. After blow drying her hair, she puts it in a ponytail. Picking up her pajamas, she walks out into the motel room to find Dean sprawled out on Sam’s bed. Sleeping with his feet hanging over the edge. Resisting the urge to wake him, she places her pajamas on her nightstand.

Placing her wallet and FBI badge in her blazer’s pockets, she’s almost ready. As a final touch, she hooks the knife sheath she had gotten from the boys on her belt. The black leather makes it almost indiscernible against her blue pants. Hearing the door jostle, she turns around to greet Sam, hands full with bags of food and drinks. As if on cue, Dean wakes up and immediately grabs the coffee.

When their bellies are filled and they’re all fully dressed and equipped, Dean drives them towards the local police station. Sam and Max take the lead while Dean stands a bit further behind. They are greeted by an administrative worker who leads them to the agent in charge of the murders. Officer Burton—a man with a large mustache and nearly as tall as Sam—isn’t too happy to be disturbed. Max puts on a fake big smile and shakes the man’s hand.“I’m agent Wayne and these are agents Kent and Monroe.”

Showing him their FBI badge, he grabs Sam’s and examines it for a minute. He motions for them to take a seat, with Dean remaining standing behind them. Max removes her backpack from her shoulders and places it between her feet while sitting down. “Since when do you guys come in with three agents? This case ain’t that big, agent Wayne.”

Nodding along, she calmly gives him their backup story. “It is just me and my partner, agent Kent. Agent Monroe is here for our yearly field observation. Don’t worry, you can think of him as a probie following along to learn the job.” She glances over at Dean, who thankfully stays in his role and doesn’t react to anything.

Officer Burton decides to be a stickler on formalities. “You got any proof of that?”

“Sure do, hang on a second.” With a curt smile, she places her backpack on her lap. Making an effort to hide its contents from his view, she takes out a manila folder. _Thank fuck we prepared for this._ Sam had created all kinds of official documents, just in case.

“Gotta admit, a fed with a backpack is a rare sight to behold.”

“Ain’t that the truth, officer. The research department concluded that using a briefcase is extremely bad for your back. Since we gotta have _something_ to carry our weapons and documents in, the office went the ergonomic route… ergo a backpack. It’s not that bad once you get used to it to be fair.” She hands him a letter from inside the folder. “I mean, what will they think of next, right?”

He hums in agreement while his eyes roam the document. Refusing to look at the brothers lest the officer notices something’s up, she watches him like a hawk. “Alright, seems to be in order. Don’t know what I can tell you though, we’re stumped.” He scratches his nose. “Some men get choked to death and their girlfriends or wives have solid alibis. No DNA, fingerprints. We even considered them getting choked as a… you know—” The officer coughs and looks anywhere but them. “—as a sex thing. But everything leads to nothing. I don’t want to throw the term serial killer around too much but I think that’s what we’re dealing with. It’s only a matter of time before he makes a mistake and we catch him.”

Sam clears his throat and speaks up. “Did the medical examiner confirm they all died of choking? Was there any camera footage available?”

“Yup. No doubt about it, she said.” He grabs a folder from behind him and pages through it until he finds what he’s searching for. “No sightings on any of the crime scenes. No people, no cars and no witnesses. I have a list here of all the camera footage my team scoured if you don’t believe me.” He taps the document with his index finger.

Max interjects to keep him on the friendly side. “That won’t be necessary.” Changing her voice to a lower tune, she smiles sweetly at him while asking for something. “We would like a copy of all the crime scene photographs and a map of the four locations, if you’re okay with that, officer Burton?”

“Sure thing, sugar, give me a minute.” Smiling at her, he grabs the folder and walks out. Funny, how quickly he changed from calling her by her title _agent_ to calling her _sugar_. The blatant disrespect stings. Max holds back from saying something about it—they might need him later on.

When the door closes, Dean huffs and mimics the officer’s voice. “ _Sure thing, sugar._ ” Sam and Max turn around, just in time to see him roll his eyes. Max snorts and turns back in her seat while Sam continues looking at Dean. “What are you looking at, Sam?”

“Nothing.” Amusement tinges his voice. “Make sure to stay in your observational role, he’s clearly a suspicious man.” Max grabs her energy drink, takes a few sips and places it back in her backpack.

After a few minutes spent in silence, the officer returns and resumes his seat. Shoving the case’s folder to the side, he hands over the copies he made. “There ya go, sugar. Anything else you need?”

_One more sugar and...ughh!!_ She wouldn’t comprise their cover but she’s frustrated as hell. “Thanks, officer Bratton. That’ll be all for now.”

“It’s Burton.”

“Sure.” She glides over a fake business card with her credentials on it. “Contact us immediately if you find something new. We’ll show ourselves out.”

Sitting in the Impala, they discuss the copies. Anything’s better than going back to the color explosion room of doom.

All photographs show some dark residue on or around the victims. Possibly ectoplasm. Possible ghost. All murders happened around Blaker Street. Searching online, Sam found out there was another murder there, four months prior to the first death. “Get this. Burt Woods was found dead in his own house, 99 Blaker Street. Strangled to death. Apparently, his parents had died in their service flat three weeks before that. There was an undetected gas leak and they had lighted some candles…” Max and Dean, listening with rapt attention. “Now this is where it gets really interesting.” He pauses for dramatic effect, causing Dean to sigh. “He died the day _after_ he got his inheritance on his bank account. When they found his body, his bank account was emptied. And… his brother Derek was nowhere to be found.”

He turns his phone towards them to show a picture. Two men standing next to each other, one with a distinct beard. Dean snorts. “Let’s go find Burt’s grave.”

* * *

Deciding against waiting for nightfall, they take the risk and go immediately. Arriving at the cemetery, Dean hands them the necessary tools and they split up between the rows. There appear to be no visitors at this early hour. Searching row after row, he lets his gaze wander over to Max. Knowing about her knee injury, he finds himself checking if she’s limping now. Glad to see she isn’t, he resumes his search.

After about two hours of walking the rows, Sam’s shouts reach his ears. Looking around, he sees him in the distance—at least forty graves ahead of them. Instead of running towards him, he weaves between the graves to enter Max’s row. “How’d he get so far ahead?”

“It’s his long legs. It just isn’t fair.” She exhales while he adjusts to her pace.

“Tssk. I have long legs too.”

She chuckles and smiles at him. “Never said you didn’t. He was probably speed-walking through here, while we went at a slow and steady pace—making sure we didn’t miss any grave.”

“Yeah, we’re more thorough. Just plain luck the grave’s in his row.”

Watching her smirking at him, Dean can’t contain a smile. “What’s taking you guys so long? Come on!” Both look ahead at Sam and continue strolling at their pace. “Finally. Let’s get this done, yeah?”

\ \ \

Digging in teams of two with one on the look-out and changing every once in a while. Coats taken off; sweat pouring down their faces and backs. Working in silence except the occasional grunt or groan.

When Dean hits the coffin, he locks eyes with Max before she shouts upwards. “Sam? Sam!” Dean starts scraping the last dirt to the side of the coffin.

“Yeah?”

“We’re close, can you throw us the salt and lighter?” After a few seconds, Max catches the items and exhales. “Ready, Dean?” Nodding at her, they begin prying open the wood. The pungent smell of the decomposing corpse permeates the air.

Above ground a struggle can be heard. “I need help, guys!”

Max forms her hands as a stepping stone and without delay, Dean steps in them with one foot. Pushing himself off the ground, he can feel Max tremble under his weight but she doesn’t give up until he’s out of the grave. Above ground, he sees Sam pinned underneath the ghost, struggling to keep it from trying to wrap its hands around his neck. Grabbing the iron crowbar laying with their stuff, he runs straight towards them and attacks. Successfully hitting it, the ghost disappears. He holds out his hand for Sam to get up. They steady themselves and take a few deep breaths. That’s when they both notice the ghost hasn’t come back yet and it’s eerily quiet. “Shit. Max.” Turning to the grave, they run like hell—in time to see flames burst upwards. “MAX!”

Peering over the edge, they hear coughing and notice her hunched in the corner. “Phew! Can you guys help me outta here?” Releasing a breath, he holds Sam’s legs down as Sam pulls her up by her arms. Sitting down on the ground, Dean kneels in front of her and checks her arms and face. “I’m okay, Dean. He didn’t hurt me.” He lets himself fall down on his behind and keeps an eye on her. She remains seated while she explains her part. “I’d put the salt all over and then I hear this voice behind me, asking me what I was doing. So, I told him what would happen and he told me to go ahead with it—not like I was giving him a choice in the matter but whatever. Then I got in the corner and burned his bones. Hey, are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Max. Bruises heal.” Sam says while handing her a water bottle. “I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t think he’d go down like that. Huh. Seems like he was only resentful towards men.”

“Hmm. Yeah, he seemed friendly to be honest.” As Max gets up, he notices it takes her quite the effort. Taking a shovel, she starts shoveling the dirt back in the grave. They quickly join her and finish it in silence, the earlier digging having taken a toll on all three.

On their way back to the car, the limp in her walk is very noticeable. “Max, stop.” Both Sam and Max stop to look at him. “You’re limping. What happened?”

She raises her eyebrows at him and snorts. “I’d like to see you try and hand-lift a grown ass man out of a grave and not overexert an already crap knee.”

Huffing at her answer, he rolls his eyes. “Never said you had to do that.”

“I know, I offered to get you up there, didn’t I?” Max sighs. “Look, I made a calculated decision; if Sam was too far away from us, you would be able to reach him way faster than me. Besides, some ice and rest and it’ll be as good as new—ish.” Not knowing how to answer, he nods at her.

“Quick thinking, Max. Thanks.” Sam pulls at the straps on her backpack. “Let me at least carry this for you, yeah?”

Relenting, she hands it over and follows behind him. Before she can register what’s happening, she gets lifted in the air, bridal-style, and is looking into Dean’s eyes. “What the fuck! Put me down!”

“No can do.” Sam turns around at the commotion and bursts out in laughter, before continuing on again. “I’ve got you, Max, it’s still a long walk to the car.”

“I can walk, man, put me down.” Grasping her a bit tighter, she struggles back.

He scoffs at her. _Damn stubborn woman._ “You got hurt to help me and Sam out. Now I’m helping you get some rest for your knee. Stop being so stubborn.”

She pouts. “You’re the stubborn one.”

“Please, I’ve got nothing on you. Are you gonna let me carry you to the car now?” Registering her short nod, he smirks and starts walking.

After a minute, she relaxes in his hold and wraps her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Any time, Max, any time.”

\ \ \

Arriving at the motel, Max—to Dean’s aggravation—refused to be carried again. He walked next to her, in case she changed her mind or appeared to be falling over. It took a while, but she made it inside safely. And to top it all off, Sam was already in the shower. “I’m gonna grab some drive thru. I’ll be back soon. Don’t walk around too much.”

She settles on the couch and starts taking off her shoes. “I’ll try not to. Could you get me a milkshake?”

“Sure.”

\ \ \

When he returns, both Sam and Max have showered and are laughing at something on the laptop. After handing over their food and drinks, he grabs a change of clothes and hops in the shower. He had eaten his food during the drive back. Taking his sweet time to get rid of the filth and sweat, their laughter in the background relaxes him. Though Max hasn’t been with them for long, the way she fits in makes warmth blossom inside his chest. As if she’s been with them for years. Realizing he doesn’t want her to leave them, ever, hits him like a freight truck.

“Dean, hurry up! Max and I want to check out that pub at the end of the street.” Sam’s shouting snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, get moving, slacker!” Listening to Max giggling, he slowly dries off and gets dressed. “I swear he’s sleeping in there—or jacking off. It has be one or the other.”

Rolling his eyes at Sam’s fake barfing, he combs his hair. “Gross, Max, don’t put pictures like that in my head.”

“Fine, fine. Something else then. Hmm. How about… what if Cas is in the shower with him? And he made them inaudible. Oooh, that’s porn I’d _pay_ to watch, that’s for sure.” Sam’s groaning causes her to burst out in laughter. “What? How else do you explain him being in there for so long?”

Opening the door, he fixes Max with a glare. “Can’t a guy just have one relaxing shower without two bastards pestering him?”

“Relaxing, was it?” Max wiggles her eyebrows at him while Sam fake barfs again. Not amused, Dean continues glaring her down. “Pfft, you two are no fun.”

“Yup.” Taking a seat on their bed, he starts putting on his shoes. “We going to that bar or not?” Both Sam and Max quickly search for their shoes. Finally ready, they go outside. “You going to make it there on foot, Max?”

“Absolutely. Look, you can go on your own pace, guys. I’ll catch up with you at the bar.” With her chin held high, she starts to walk, very slow. Doing her best not to make the limp noticeable—and failing at it. She turns back to them. “Just go, please.”

Dean turns to Sam, who nods back. “We’re not going anywhere, Max. We’ve got time. Let us know if you want a piggyback ride.”

“Not going to happen.” She continues while they join her side.

“How about an arm then?”

Dean holds out his arm for her. Sam nudges her other arm and with a smile, she hooks her arms in both of theirs. “Let’s get a move on, you guys are slowing me down.”

\ \ \

With not too many people at the bar, they find a round booth and settle in. Dean at the head of the table and Sam and Max flanking him, so everyone has eyes on a part of the bar. Max insisted on buying the first round and was talking animatedly with a man at the counter. Keeping his eyes on her, he ignores Sam’s chuckling. “God, Dean. It’s kind of adorable how smitten you are. Looks good on you.”

Confusion clouds his thoughts when he looks over to Sam. “What the hell are you talking about, Sam?”

His smirk makes way for a genuine smile. “Max. Who else?”

“What?” He looks over to Max and back to Sam. “I’m just making sure that guy doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want. Don’t want to get kicked out within five minutes of arriving when she knocks him out.”

Sam’s smile grows bigger. “Of course, Dean. I believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t you? She has a track record of getting into bar fights.”

Sam snorts. “Once.”

“That we know off.” Ignoring Sam, his gaze automatically turns back to Max. She’s still smiling at the guy. Dean can’t pinpoint if what he’s feeling is protectiveness or jealousy. Luckily, the bartender hands her the drinks on a plateau and with an amicable nod to the guy, she walks back to them.

“Here ya go, guys.” She places two glasses of whiskey and a glass of coke on the table before sitting down.

“Hey Max, Dean wanted to know who you were talking to.”

Mentally berating Sam, he doesn’t react to his comment. She glances from Sam to Dean and back. “You mean you don’t recognize him?” Sam shakes his head in confusion. “It’s the administrative worker from the police department. He wanted to know if we got the files. The ones officer Burton copied for us? Turns out Burton didn’t do shit but order someone else to do it. Apparently he doesn’t even know how a printer works.” Relief floods his emotions while Max laughs. The bartender comes by and hands Max a bag of ice. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” The bartender smiles politely at her before leaving again.

Holding the bag on her knee, she exhales in bliss. “That bad, huh?”

“Nah, it’s nothing.”

Dean scoffs. “Why are you so adamant about us not helping you when you’re in pain?”

She looks hurt by his question and drinks from her coke. Delaying having to answer. Looking down, she speaks softly. “It makes—it makes me feel weak, okay? And I can’t do shit about it and I don’t want to use you to make it easier for myself.”

Sam smiles apologetically at her. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling weak sometimes or accepting help when you need it. Hey, if it was one of us, you’d want to help us too, right?”

“Without doubt.” Comprehension dawns as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Ugh. Don’t use logic on me, Sam. It’s too early for that.”

Changing the topic to less heavy topics, they soon spend hours in laughter.

\ \ \

Several bar snacks later, they arrive back at the motel room. This time, she allowed Sam to give her a piggy-back ride; joking about finally knowing how giants view the world. They took turns using the bathroom, Dean going in last. Unlocking the door, Sam is quick to shush him. “Max is already asleep. I’m going to be out in seconds too, today’s been exhausting.”

“Yeah, me too. We’ll drive back first thing in the morning.” Dean closes the curtains.

“Okay, sleep well.” Sam gets under the covers and turns on his side, facing the other way.

“Sure, Sam. Good night.” Dean turns the lights off and sits on the edge of the bed. Max, responding to the movement, groans. “Sorry.”

Laying on his side, he hears her soft voice. “It’s ok.”

By instinct, he reaches out to touch her arm. She turns around and rolls into him, placing her hands on his chest. A deep sigh escapes her mouth as she settles her head underneath his. He whispers in her ear. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He wraps his arms around her and fights the urge to place a kiss on her head. Instead, he places his chin on her head and falls asleep with a smile on his face.

\ \ \

Waking up, Max is still sleeping. Soft lighting coming through the thin curtains makes it visible Sam’s bed is empty. Probably on a breakfast run. The likelihood of him having seen them cuddled together in their sleep just went up exponentially. Max stirs in his arms. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She squeezes his arm softly in acknowledgment. “Too tired, huh?”

“Yeah.”

She lets her hand glide over the side of his chest and hugs him closer. “I think Sam saw you cuddling me. He’s already out of his bed.”

“Don’t care.”

“You sure about that?”

“Stop thinking.” She nuzzles her face in his chest. “Sleep.”

He’s certain she can feel his heartbeat increase but the rhythm of her breathing tells him she’s asleep again. Knowing full well he won’t be able to close his eyes again, he lets her sleep in his arms. Until Sam comes back, smirking at their position. Dean glares him into silence.

When they awaken a groggy Max, Sam informs them he went to update officer Burton. Telling him the FBI deemed the case too simple and that we were sure he’d figure out who did it, one day. Apparently, Burton turned red with anger and told him to get the fuck out of his office. Laughing about it, they gather their stuff and place it in the trunk. Sam drops off the room’s key at the manager’s office.

All in a good mood, they get comfortable for the ride back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some chapters written for further along in the story, now I just need to write everything between that... so updates will be a bit slower.
> 
> Enjoy the weekend!


	10. Chapter 10

A few days after their successful ghost hunt, Max woke up in a pool of sweat around three AM. Half of her was here, awake. The other half was stuck, reliving things vividly; shaking her to the core. Needing to clear her head, she gets dressed and grabs her car keys. Writing a note before leaving.

_cannot sleep & need air  
will be back soon  
max_

Parking somewhere along the edge of a forest, she strolls in the moonlight. For hours and without pause. Eyes adjusting to the darkness. Allowing the memories to hit her like a sledgehammer to the ribs. Letting the emotions run freely. When she has exhausted her last tears and her breathing resumes its normal rhythm, she plods back to her car.

Arriving back at the bunker at nine AM, she parks her car and steps out in the hallway. Walking towards her room, she notices Dean standing with his back to her. “Hey, Dean.”

Swiveling abruptly, he tucks his cell phone in his pocket. The wind gets knocked out of her when he wraps his arms around her; squeezing her face into his chest. “Fuck, Max. You look like you’ve been through hell. Where were you? I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t you find my note? I left it near the fridge so you wouldn’t miss it…”

Sam’s shouts can be heard. “Dean! Hey Dean! Where are you? She left us a note!”

“Well, fuck.”

As Sam’s footsteps get closer, Dean shuffles himself to stand next to her with his arm around her shoulder. As if he needs to feel she’s still there. “There you are—oh, Max! Are you okay, now?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Drove to some forest and went for a walk.”

“Why’d you go to a forest in the middle of the night?” Sam hands the note to Dean. After reading the note, he visibly relaxes. Fixing his gaze on Max, he barrages her with questions. “How long were you out there? And completely alone, Max, something could’ve happened to you! You couldn’t sleep? Did you drink too much soda before bed or something?”

She removes herself from his semi-hug and cocks her head; searching his face for clues. “You’re interrogating me. Why?”

“I’m not interrogating you.” Spluttering at her question, he glances to Sam who shrugs his shoulders. “We were scared shitless something had happened to you, okay?”

Accepting his reason, her expression relaxes and she gives them the truth. “Sorry you had to go through that, I really am. But I did leave a note.” Max exhales forcibly. “People get bad dreams, alright? Except sometimes it’s a nasty memory and whatever I try, I can’t fall asleep again. So I go for a walk. That’s all there is to it.”

“I have to agree with Dean, going out in a forest at night… it’s not that safe.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. It’s not safe for anyone. You know what’s out there.”

“I do know.” She can’t stop the irrational anger bubbling up inside of her. “But I would not question either of you doing something like this. Nor would I assume you wouldn’t be able to handle what’s out there.”

“Max, come on.” Sam looks crestfallen. “That’s not what I meant and you kno—“

“What was the memory?” Dean inquires softly.

Realizing she lashed out because of being so affected by a memory, her anger dissipates. Not being able to look them in the eye, she mumbles her answer at her shoes. “Falling. Falling and smashing my knee.” Turning on her heels, she calmly walks to her room. A little voice in her mind tells her that her strong reaction hadn’t been exactly clearheaded. After closing her door, she decides to escape into another world and picks out a random book; in hope it will calm her mind.

After about what could have been thirty minutes, a few knocks pull her straight out of Hogwarts. Sighing, she takes a few seconds before answering. “Come in.” Shoving a bookmark between the pages, she turns her gaze to Dean walking in with a plate of sandwiches in his hand. “What’s up? You can eat on the bed if you want…”

Confusion flashes across his face before smiling. “They’re for you, Max.” He nudges her legs aside as he takes a seat on the bed. “Here, take it.” Handing her the plate, he takes the book out of her lap. After her mumbled thank you, he starts leafing through the pages. “You want to be alone right now?” A quick glance and a short shake of the head confirms she doesn’t want to be alone. “Alright, scoot over.” Crawling to sit next to her, she shuffles to the side with a sandwich in her mouth. “Come here.” Holding out his arm for, she looks at him questionably. “I won’t bite, come on.” Swallowing a piece of her sandwich, she turns and lets her back gently sag against his chest. Within a second, his arm is around her waist—pulling her closer.

“Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to snap at you guys. And it’s no excuse but it’s been a rough night and I got so aggita—“

“It’s okay. We understand. Everyone’s got bad days.” He opens the book to where her bookmark’s placed. “Try to eat more if you can.” After softly kissing the back of her head, he starts reading out loud; unaware of the fluttering in her chest.

Having eaten most of the sandwiches, she places the plate on the nightstand while Dean stops reading. A voice emerges from behind her. “Hey Max, I’m sorry about before.” Turning towards it, she finds Sam standing apologetically in her doorway.

“Sam.” She looks down in guilt. “ _I’m_ sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Either of you.”

“No, you don’t have to apol—“

“Both of you stop it.” Looking up, she’s just in time to see Dean rolling his eyes. “We’re all sorry and Max is going to take her phone with her next time or ask someone to at least drive her. Right, Max?”

Sam nods and Max sighs. “I’ll take my phone with me.”

“Good.” Dean smiles kindly.

Sam smiles amusedly. “Alright, I’ll leave you two to whatever you were doing. Have fun!” Swiftly walking outside, neither Max nor Dean say something.

Sitting next to each other, Dean flips the book back open and holds out his arm for her. Smiling softly at him, she crawls closer and leans in with her side this time. Resting her head and a hand on his chest. “I’m glad I met you, Dean.”

Letting her fingers run across his henley shirt, she carefully looks up. “Me too, Max.” His glance casting from her mouth to her eyes. “I’m glad you decided to stick with us.”

“How could I refuse this place? It’s practically my Batcave.”

“Awtch.” He fakes being overly sad. “You only stayed here to live out your Batman fantasies?”

“Absolutely. Can’t think of another reason to stay here.”

“Careful, you’re hurting my feelings now.” He pokes her playfully in the side.

“Awhh, don’t be sad.” In retaliation, she pokes him softly in the belly. “Don’t tell the others but these fellas living here? They’re not too bad. Otherwise I’d have been long gone by now.”

“Is that right?” She nods and smiles back at him. “Well, this other hunter who moved in with us, isn’t too bad either. But don’t tell her that, it’ll go straight to her head.”

“Will do.” Laying her head on his chest, he pokes her again. “Hmm?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat. “Now, where were we? Aha.” Clearing his throat a second time, he resumes reading while Max draws lazy circles with her fingers on his chest or plays with the fabric of the flannel he’s wearing on top of his shirt.

* * *

Discovering he kind of likes reading this book, he makes sure to do funny voices. Even if it’s just to hear her laugh. Yet, it takes all his effort and concentration to keep reading while pushing down thoughts about those eyes pinning their gaze on him. _Damnit! Stop thinking about her. Stop thinking about her._ Wanting to stay in this exact moment forever. The sensation of her fingers running across his shirt. _Concentrate!_ Forcing himself to immerse his thoughts into the book, he’s able to find his focus.

They take a few bathroom and snack breaks but a couple of hours later they’re interrupted—again. This time in the form of Castiel standing in front of her bed. “Max, I need you to come with me.”

Pushing herself a bit up from Dean’s chest, she’s immediately ready for action. “Okay. Where to?”

“We have somewhere to go.” Noticing the emphasis on the word _we_ , makes his mind jump to all kinds of conclusions.

“Let me put on some shoes.” In a matter of seconds she’s grabbing her shoes and putting them on while still seated on the bed.

“Hang on, Cas. I’m coming with.”

Cas exhales. She looks up after tying her shoelaces. “Don’t worry, Dean.”

“Why can’t I come along? All of us are hunters, so what’s going on?”

Max turns towards him on the bed and grabs his hand. “Hey, hey.” Zoning in on her kind face, he ignores Castiel’s impatient posture. “I’m sure it’s nothing bad. Right, Cas?”

“If you must know, Dean, I’m taking her to a concert.” Castiel rolls his eyes. “I will have to change our outfits, Max.”

“A concert? At—“ A quick glance at his watch. “—11:20 AM?”

“It’s six PM in Switzerland. Do you _want_ to accompany us?” Cas tilts his head and Dean feels examined.

He huffs. “Depends, what kind of concert are we talking about?”

Castiel clicks his fingers; changing his clothes to a sharp black suit. “A three hour Mozart concert by the Vienna Philharmonic in the Musikverein’s golden hall.”

“Uhhh... Max, you’re into this stuff?”

She squeezes his hand before grinning at him. “Oh, hell yes! The music’s great and I love infiltrating the snobs. It’s like you’re on an entirely different planet.” She chuckles as if she’s having an inside joke. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“What color would you like, Max?” Cas asks hurriedly. “We don’t want to be late.”

She gets up to stand in front of Cas. “Hmm. I’m feeling something blue today.” Another click and she’s wearing a navy blue dress, till just below the knee, combined with some fancy kind of shoes without heels. _What are those things even called?_ Her hair falling down an open back, showing the lower half of her phoenix tattoo. Swallowing thickly, he stares at her with an open mouth. “Ooh, nice one, Cas!” Max takes a small silver handbag out of her closet; placing her phone and wallet in it. “Have you decided yet, Dean?”

Placing the bookmark between the correct pages, he gets up. “Alright, alright. I’ll go with you guys. Cas, get Sam too and I’ll go put on my suit.” Before he leaves, Cas snaps his fingers and Dean feels another fabric envelop his body. A very dark burgundy suit.

“Fuuuuck.” Max is blatantly checking him out from top to bottom. His eyebrows raise. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful. That looks amazing on you.”

“Awhh, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Of course I do, I’m not blind.” She smirks back at him now. “Really though, you look stunning in that color. The snobs are going to eat you alive.”

Bursting out in laughter, Sam and Cas emerge next to Max, both in a black suit. “Anyone want to place a bet on how long it’ll take Dean to fall asleep or leave?” Sam asks.

Max waves her finger. “Nuh-uh, you’re not allowed to leave during the performance. That’s basic etiquette! So, Dean will probably dash during the break or fall asleep in the last half.”

Rolling his eyes at their jesting, he notices Castiel becoming impatient. “Guys, we have to go. Now.”

“Yeah, stop messing around you two and let’s go.” Max giggles and holds her hand out for him while grabbing Sam’s with the other. Placing his hand in hers, he intertwines their fingers; causing her to look up at him with a smile. Feeling a slight chill around him, he looks to the side to notice they’re standing on a small public square in front of a pink building with rows of people going inside. “Uhh, Cas? Do we even _have_ tickets?”

“You do know I’m an angel, right?” He holds out his hand and a few pieces of paper appear in it. “They will not let us enter if we are too late. I suggest we get moving.” Castiel and Sam choose the shortest row and Max and Dean follow them. After scanning their tickets, they’re finally inside. Realizing he’s still holding Max’s hand, he lets go. He could swear she looked dejected for a second.

To get to their seats, they have to follow a long, winding staircase. Max’s grumbling and muffled cursing behind him is quite entertaining. “ _Merde!_ Fuck _that_ shit. Of course the bloody elevator has to be out of service when I come here. Assholes. They’re lucky I don’t want to risk getting kicked out. Motherfuckers. Shriveled ball sacks is what they are. Stop fucking laughing at me, Dean! Just wait until I reach the fucking top. Ughh, _putain les escaliers de l'enfer_!” At the top, he waits for her. The flush in her cheeks from the exertion, combined with her angry expression, make her look adorable. “Should sue them in name of every disabled person ever. Or start a petition. You better sign that shit.” The old man behind her seems oblivious to everything she’s been saying.

Smiling at her getting riled up, he holds his hand out for her. “Of course I’d sign, sweetheart.”

“Good.” She takes his hand and they walk further into the small room. Sam and Castiel stand near a double door. Winding through the people, he follows in her lead. Noticing both Sam and Castiel’s eyes cast down to Max’s hand in his—makes him hold on to her just a bit more.

“How’s your knee, Max?” Sam asks with a worried voice.

“Still attached, unfortunately. Let’s go take our seats, please.” Getting their tickets scanned again at the doors, they quickly find their seats. Front row on the balcony, directly opposite the podium. Sitting down, Max lets go of his hand.

“So, Cas. Tell me.” Cas’ head pops out from next to Max while Sam continues gazing at the golden ceiling. “Are there going to be any other people claiming these seats?”

Max looks at him for a second and scrunches her nose in amusement before taking out her phone. “Those people fell asleep in their hotel room and will wake up after it’s finished.” Cas answers.

“You do this a lot, Cas?”

“I—yes.” Max takes a few photo’s of the ceiling and zooms in on the details on her phone. “Max and I have gone to quite a lot of these in the past couple of weeks, all across the world.”

Sam turns back to them and looks as surprised as Dean’s feeling. “Huh? How come neither of us have noticed?”

Max speaks without looking away from her phone. “Depending on time zones, we mostly go at our zone’s nighttime. We didn’t think you’d guys be interested in this.” Turning to Dean, she narrows her eyes. “Still not convinced, to be honest.”

“Well that explains why you’re always such a sleepyhead.”

“Does it?” She raises an eyebrow. As he’s about to say something back, the doors shut all over the room. “No getting out now.” She whispers and winks; before turning her head towards the podium.

\ \ \

Just as his ass is falling asleep, the lightning turns brighter and the doors open. _Well, that’s an hour and half I’ll never get back._ Not that the music was bad, it’s just isn’t his thing. Max looks at him knowingly and laughs. She gets out of her seat and leaves the room. He turns to Cas. “Shouldn’t we go with her?”

“If she needed anyone to come with her, she would’ve asked. But I don’t think she’d mind if you did.” Cas smiles. “By the way, if you want to get a drink or need the bathroom… It’s a fifteen minute break. If you’re late, you are not allowed back in after they’ve closed the doors.”

“Speaking of, I could use a bathroom break.” Sam gets up and leaves the other way and Dean uses it as a cue to get up as well.

Entering the enclosing room, he finds it packed with people holding champagne glasses. A waitress walking past, he motions her over. He grabs a glass and tastes it. _Not bad. Not bad at all._ The amount of different languages being spoken around him is a little bit confusing yet also exhilarating. Walking around, he finally sees Max. Standing in front of a man and a woman—both at least a head taller than her. Looking up at them with a smile while she nods along. Getting closer, he notices the woman has her fingers on Max’s upper arm and is gently stroking her. _Huh, interesting._ Moving a bit behind Max, out of her line of sight, he hears they’re speaking French. Rapidly. Excitedly. The woman leans down and whispers in Max’s ear, causing her to laugh softly. Placing the glass on a table, he unconsciously moves closer until his hand is touching her naked back. Leaning into the touch, she angles herself to look at his him. Her smile grows even bigger. “Dean! These are Juliette and Guillaume. Juliette, Guy, je vous présente Dean, mon ami.”

The woman, Juliette, extends her hand. “Enchanté, Dean.” Shaking her hand, he holds his out for the guy— _Guy? Gee? Gil whatever_ —who shakes it firmly. He turns to Max, feeling quite a bit uncomfortable. She leans further into him, as if wanting to calm or assure him.

“Il ne parle pas français. Mais nous retournons à nos sièges.” Listening to her speaking another language is kind of soothing. Trying to figure out any meaning to the words, he lets his thumb caress her skin, slowly sweeping back and forth. “Je vous souhaite une bonne soirée et à la prochaine fois?”

“Bien sûr.” Juliette leans down to place a kiss on both of Max her cheeks, as does the guy. “Bonsoir, ma belle. Dean.”

“Uhh. Bye.”

They walk away and Max sighs as she turns around into him. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“What?”

She smiles up at him and lets her head rest against his shoulder. “I swear the woman’s a succubus or something. This is the third time I’ve run into them and the second time she’s tried to get me to join them for a threesome.”

“What?”

“Not an actual succubus, but you know. Tall women, man.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame she’s rude as hell to anyone she deems beneath her. I’ve seen her be mean to the waiters quite a few times. Damn snob’s blocking herself from getting laid. Such a shame. Guillaume’s really friendly, though.”

“What?”

Her eyebrows draw up in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Uhh. Nothing. Out of curiosity… would you have said yes if she wasn’t mean?”

“Oh! Definitely, you saw them, right?” She laughs softly. “Alas, I only let good-hearted people in my pants.” She smiles amusedly before standing on her toes and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Did you get something to drink yet? Guillaume said the champagne is exquisite.” Warmth creeping up his cheeks, all he wants is to feel her lips on his skin again.

“Yeah, it tasted good, actually.” He clears his throat and asks a question he has been meaning to ask for a long while. “How come you speak French? You’re not from France, right?”

A sadness takes over her expression before a small smile returns. “My parents spoke English and French, so I’ve always spoken both since childhood. I prefer English, though.” Noticing her evasion of saying where she’s actually from, he decides to let it go. A signal sounds, meaning it’s time to go back. “Are you staying with us or going out in the city?”

Still holding onto her back, he leads her around. “I’m not going anywhere.” Walking side by side, he walks her back to their seats; determined not to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about adding some smut down the road, but I don't know if you guys are open to that? I've never written any and it will be embarassing... but might be worth a try.


	11. Chapter 11

Reading in her bed, legs propped up against the wall, Max gets distracted by a small hunger pang; making her take off in search of a snack. Turning on the light in kitchen, she gasps as she sees a young man sitting at the table. His friendly face and kind gaze turn to her before speaking. “You’re not from here.”

Apprehensive, she remains standing in the exact spot. “Well, you got that right, I wasn’t born in America.”

A smirk forms on his lips. “It’s so great to finally meet you, Max.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Castiel told me, of course. I’ve been meaning to visit this world for some time again… but things happen. They always do.” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes a bright smile.

“Are you one of his brothers?”

“I’m his son.”

“You’re Jack?” Ease flowing through her, she takes a seat across from him. “Nice to meet you.” He nods. “You said you were on another world? Which one? Can you tell me about it?”

“It’s not a world you know.” Her stomach grumbles softly. Chuckling, he snaps his fingers. Yoghurt and a spoon appear in front of her, gesturing for her to eat. “Animal life is only in its early stages. I’ve been terraforming a couple of planets for the past year and a half but it’s not going as fast as I want. In time, the humans will be able to go to whichever one they want—before this system’s sun dies.”

Her jaw dropping open at this revelation, her voice turns tiny. “You can do that?”

“Of course, it’s not _that_ hard. I just like to take my time to get it right.” His head turns to the side; a beautiful smile prominent. “Sam! Join us. I’m only staying for a couple of hours.”

“Jack!” Sam rushes over to Jack, who stands up to get hugged. Their heartfelt embrace is lovely to see. “It’s good to see you. Oh, hey, let me introduce you to Ma—“

“It’s okay, Sam. We’ve met.”

“Uhh. When?”

“A few minutes ago, Sam.” Max answers while Jack smirks and resumes his seat. She starts eating her yoghurt when Sam takes a seat next to Jack. “You’re in search of a late night snack, too?”

“Max… it’s six AM.”

“Oh.” Confused, she glances at the clock. 06:08. “Man, I completely lost track of time reading those new books I bought.”

Sam laughs. “Either dead to the world or no sleep at all. You have the weirdest sleeping patterns, Max.” She shrugs.

“It’s quite normal for her.”

Swallowing the last of her yoghurt, she glances at Sam before pinning a neutral gaze on Jack. “What do you mean?”

A playful smile emerges. “Well, you’re young. You just need to replenish from time to time, don’t you? It’s a good thing you’re so energetic. Unlike my older friends, here.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You know I’m only six years older than her.”

“Yep. That’s what I said. Older.” Sam playfully punches his arm. “Dean is still not an early riser, I see.”

“That’s never going to happen, I’m afraid.” Sam’s smile turns into a wicked grin. “Hey Jack? Have I told you yet how I found Dean and Max cuddling in their sleep on our last job? Not just one night, but _two_! It was adorable.”

Max rolls her eyes. “And what about it?”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “Well, I’ve noticed the way you look at him. And all the handholding when Cas took us to Switzerland. So…”

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling comfortable around friends. And it’s the same way I look at anyone, Sam. You sure you don’t need glasses?” Narrowing her eyes on him, she tries to envision it while Sam chuckles. “I bet you’d look amazing in glasses. Full on sexy professor.”

Jack tilts his head. “You’re deflecting, Max.”

She sighs. “Look, I’ve got no control where mine or Dean’s limbs move in our sleep. Nor am I ashamed about it. Besides, I’m positive if I had crashed in your bed, Sam, we would’ve woken up entangled too. Ooh, are you imagining it, Sammy? I see that blush starting there.” Sam snorts. “And not to mention the fact that Dean would be teasing us about it as well. So bring it on, I can handle it.”

“Now she’s distracted you from the comment about the handholding and the way she looks at him, again, Sam.”

“Thanks, Jack. Makes you wonder how much she’s in denial.” Sam investigates Max’s eyes.

“I can give you a percentage.” Jack deadpans.

Max bursts out laughing. “Oh boy. You guys.” She snorts while she gets up; throwing the plastic in the bin and the spoon in the sink. “I’ll let you get to your gossiping. Have fun!” _Nope. Stop thinking about how much you liked cuddling Dean!_ _Holding his hand. His hand on your back. Nope. No. Not going to happen!_ Stuffing down the images running in her head, she shakes her head.

Wanting to get back to reading as a distraction, she walks through the hallway. Noticing Dean’s light coming from underneath his door, she can’t stop herself from knocking. A shout tells her to come in. Opening the door and leaning against the frame, she sees Dean rummaging in his wardrobe. “What’s up?”

“You’re up early… Are you getting ill?”

He stops his rummaging to see what she’s doing. “Very funny.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” She walks in and takes a seat on his bed. Laying down on her back, she places her hands under her head and looks up at the ceiling.

“You’re claiming my bed now? Careful or I’m not letting you leave it.” _Yes, please. Oh, shit. Normal thoughts!_ Laughing at herself, she lets her feet dangle from the edge. “Hey, tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Taking a seat next to her head, the bed dips under his weight. “Guess what. Turns out you were right… about Sam seeing us all cuddled up. He was trying to taunt me with it.” She snorts. “Told him to bring it on. Jack’s in the kitchen, by the way. I like him, the kid’s got spirit.”

“Jack’s back? That’s awesome. And hey, don’t mind Sam.”

“I don’t mind at all.” She winks playfully at him. “Just giving you a heads up, there’s a big chance he’ll tease you as well.”

“Ehh, it’s only fair for all the teasing I’ve done in the past. I can handle it.” His hand moves to her face to brush some strands of hair away. “Besides, I slept peacefully both nights.” Dean flops on his back next to her, their arms barely touching.

“Yeah. So did I.”

His voices comes out in a whisper. “Almost makes we want to crawl in your bed every night.”

The next words leave her mouth before she can stop herself. “I’ll leave my door open, then.” Their eyes meet as a smirk forms on her lips. “Unless you come in with ice-cold feet; I’d kick you out so hard, you’d land in the hallway.”

Only two seconds of looking at each other before they laugh. He turns on his side, with his arm under his head. “You got plans for today?” Turning her head slightly, she hums her agreement. “Which are…?”

“Grocery shopping, followed by being a lazy bum for the rest of the day.” Scratching her nose, she watches him zone out. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, Marilyn?”

“Well, it’s kind of silly. You’re gonna laugh.”

Sitting upright, she turns towards him and grabs his hand in her lap; lacing their fingers together. “I like silliness, tell me.”

“I uhm, I was hoping you could teach me how to pronounce your name. I know I’m never going to be able to say it correctly French-like but close to it? M-Maybe?” His expression fills with dread. “You’re gaping at me, damn, you’re gonna laugh, aren’t yo—”

Flinging her arms around him, she sort of hugs him while he’s still laying down. Feeling his laughter rumble underneath her, she smiles at herself and sits back up. “Okay, sit up and let’s give it a try. Like this. Dubois.” He carefully tries out the word. “Hmm. I can work with that. Say Sue. Now Du. Sue Du.” He repeats the words a few times. “Great, you’ve nailed the first half. Now say bwah, but very clipped. Bwah. Again. Bwah.” His facial expressions are adorable as he makes sure to put in his best effort. “Now let’s bring Sue back. Sue Bwah. Excellent! Now Du Bwah, but say it very fast after each other. Dubwah.”

“Duu Bwah.”

“Faster, repeat it a few times.”

“Duu Bwah. Duubwah. Dubois. Dubois.”

“Yes! That’s it!” He crushes her in a hug while she whispers in his ear. “I’m proud of you.”

Nuzzling in her hair, he laughs. “Well, I had a great teacher.” Goose bumps raise as he absentmindedly strokes her arm. “You cold, sweetheart? Hang on, I’ll get you something.” Gently removing himself from the hug, he walks to his wardrobe and takes out a black and white flannel. Realizing she’s almost crawled in his lap during the hug, she feels a blush crawl up her neck. “Here, Miss Dubois.”

Smiling proudly at his pronunciation, she puts on the flannel. “Tell me, monsieur Winchester, what are your plans for today?” Looking up to see him biting his lower lip, he promptly turns around.

Clearing his throat and grabbing his watch from his nightstand, he puts it on. “Gonna say hi to Jack and maybe I can join you? I do remember promising I would go shopping with you one day.”

“It’s groceries. Not shopping.”

“Nuh-uh. You said grocery _shopping_.”

“Smartass.” Rolling her eyes, she gets up. “Take your time with Jack, yeah? I need a change of clothes anyway. Come find me when you’re ready to go _shopping_.”

“On it.” Walking to the door, his voice comes from behind her. “And hey, Max? Thanks, you know, for not laughing at me.”

Turning around, she watches his nervous stance for a second. “No problem. You can always come to me with anything, you know that, right? Anytime and no judgment.” He exhales and nods.

* * *

Catching up with Jack is always nice. The kid explains things so vividly, it’s like you’re seeing it in front of you. His chest bursts with pride at the things Jack’s been doing.

The teasing from Sam and Jack didn’t bother him that much.

Maybe a little, though.

They’re not wrong. Yes, they cuddled. Yes, they held hands. Yes, they’re very affectionate towards each other. _So?_ He wants to tell them yes, fucking yes. But that would mean he’d have to admit… things. And doing that would change everything. He could lose her friendship entirely. The thought alone makes him shudder. Above all, their friendship is what he values the most. He’s not risking anything to lose that. Stopping this train of thought, he turns his attention back to Sam and Jack; who have been making all kinds of predictions for a couple of minutes now. “I’m sorry.”

Getting up, he notices Jack smirking. “What do you mean?” Sam asks cautiously.

“I’m sorry you guys don’t have a friend you can be that close with.” Leaving the kitchen, he can hear their laughter. “Assholes.”

He finds her in her room, behind her desk. Gaming. “Five minutes, please.”

“Take your time. Wait, what are those? Aliens?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just in time for some fun!” Her giggling makes his heart skip a beat. _Dammit, Dean!_ “This is that game I told you about, Mass Effect. Remember? So, this alien over there is an Asari. Cute aren’t they?”

Tilting his head to the side, he checks out the alien. “Uhh. Yeah, actually.”

“I just need to bone this one and then I’m good to go.”

“Do you need to be alone for that?”

She snorts and proceeds to click something on the screen. “Nah, I’m good, don’t mind you watching this with me.” Leaning back in her chair, she places her hands under her head. Dean walks closer and leans on the chair to watch a human get it on with an alien.

“This isn’t a game, it’s just porn—isn’t it?”

A short laugh echoes throughout the room. “I guess you could say it’s both?”

“Oh, come on! Why’d they fade it to black like that? They hadn’t even started properly!”

“I know, it’s damn frustrating.” She clicks a few things and shuts the game off to turn around and look at him with a smirk. “You ready to go?”

Max stands up, causing him to take notice of what she’s wearing. Brown ankle boots, black cut-off shorts—not afraid to show the scars on her knee. Combined with a white V-neck t-shirt and… his black and white flannel tied around her waist. _Fuck. Oh, shit._ Swallowing down, he’s quick to nod and walk out in the hallway. _Push those feelings down, Winchester._ “Come on, slacker.”

“Yeah, yeah. On my way.” Hearing car keys jingle, she walks out with a tote bag dangling from her shoulders. “Ready.” Hooking her arm in his, she chuckles as they walk to the garage. “How bad was the teasing?”

“Well, they had a lot of fun ganging up on me.”

“Awh, poor thing.” She bumps softly against him and lets her head fall on his shoulder. “I’m thinking we could ignore some things Sam put on the grocery list. Say they ran out in the store?”

 _I don’t deserve her._ “An excellent idea. Serves him right.”

* * *

Max insisted on driving her own car; blasting some hippie tunes, as Dean likes to call them. During the ride, he shared more stories about Jack. A proud smile on his lips the entire time. In turn, she told him more about the game and the different alien species. At the store, she lets him wield the cart. They get the necessary groceries and some stuff purely to treat themselves. Every time she grabbed something for herself, she had to suppress the urge to shout _treat yo’ self_.

Grabbing a can of green spray paint, she turns around to place it in the cart. “No.”

He tries to grab it and she holds it behind her, pouting. “You don’t even know what I’m going to use it for.”

“Of course I do and you’re not going to paint our gun.”

Now standing in front of her with a cocky grin, she places one hand on his chest, slightly pushing him back. “Okay, hold on one second and take a step back, please.”

“Why?” Taking a step back, he looks at her with a curious expression. Placing two fingers in her shorts, she pulls them open, quickly placing the bottom half of the can inside and letting her t-shirt fall over the other half. “You’re going to steal it?”

“No. But you’re not taking my paint away unless you’re getting your hands down my pants in public.”

“Don’t think I won’t do it.”

She starts walking down the row with a smug smile. “I’d like to see you try though, sweetie.” Amused by herself, she stops at the pasta section.

Feeling Dean come up behind her with the cart, she doesn’t pay him much attention until he whispers in her ear. “There’s no one around.” Before she can respond, she’s spun around and pushed against the shelves with her hands pinned above her. Absolutely certain he wouldn’t do it, she’s too stunned to move and stares at him with an open mouth. Locking her jaw, she’s using all her concentration to keep a poker face; not letting him see how much he’s affecting her. He chuckles while holding both of her arms up with one hand. Fingers sneaking under her t-shirt and roaming across her skin, painstakingly slow—all the while maintaining eye-contact. Her heart drumming against her ribcage while his mouth moves back against her ear to whisper. “Aha, there it is.” Taking out the can, he smirks at her. “Should’ve chosen red, to match your cheeks, sweetheart.”

Placing the can in the cart behind him, he doesn’t let go of her and turns back to her. “It’s going to take more than this to stop me from painting my gun, you know.”

“I know, that’s why I put the can in the cart before they arrest you for shoplifting.” Chuckling, he lets go of her arms. “I grabbed a silver can too. I remember you saying something about adding details in silver.“

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Asshole.”

“I know, I know.”

“You’re lucky I consider you my family now.” Rolling her eyes, she takes the cart away from him. Walking while trying to vanquish the thoughts of him so close to her.

* * *

He knows he shouldn’t have messed with her like that but something keeps drawing him closer to her. _God, the way she blushed._ It took every ounce of control not to kiss her there and then but he’s sure she would’ve knocked him out with a punch or a kick to the balls. Hell, she looked close to it when he took her can away. She didn’t stop him, though.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he can feel her calm down while she pushes the cart further. “Sorry.”

She exhales before looking him in the eye. “It’s okay. I’ll still let you use Robin once she’s painted.”

Squeezing her shoulder, he smiles down at her. “So, I’m family, huh?”

“Of course.” She blows some air in his face. “Don’t look so troubled, it’s okay if you don’t see me like that.”

“Didn’t say that.” For the next question, he makes sure to use a neutral voice. “Do you think of me as your brother?”

“Uhhhh, god no.” Her nose scrunches up. “Family doesn’t have to be things like brother and sister, you know. Friends can be family, too.”

Relieved at her not seeing him as a brother, he kisses her temple. “Looking at it like that, I consider you part of the family too, Max.” Her sweet smile never dwindles the entire way.

\ \ \

It takes him four days to muster the courage to knock on her bedroom door; having made sure to wait until Sam went to bed. “Just a second!” Counting the seconds—all fourteen of them—to try and get rid of this anxious feeling wrapping around his throat. _What if she doesn’t trust me enough? What if I ruin everything and she leaves us?_ Opening her door, she takes a second to look at him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

As soon as he hears her voice, his inner worrying calms down. “Well, for starters, it’s two AM and you aren’t asleep yet so there goes my plan of sneaking in…”

Her eyebrows raise. “You call knocking on a door sneaking?”

“Pfft. I’m excellent at sneaking. I saw your light from under the door.” He clears his throat. “Uhm. I’ll come back another night maybe? If you aren’t going to bed yet? I’m sorry, I’ll leave you to it.”

As he turns around, she swiftly captures his hand. “Nah, was only doing some reading before I got dressed. Come in.” Not letting go of her hand, he walks inside to stand next to her while she closes the door. His mind racing through a range of emotions. Wanting to be close to her. Scared of changing the dynamic. Petrified of losing her friendship—of losing her. She smiles up at him. “I can hear your brain ticking, Winchester.” Her squeezing his hand makes him look down into her eyes. “Hey, hey, no judgment between us. If you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, that’s okay.” She smiles softly at him before letting go of his hand; turning around and getting under her covers.

The need to be close to her outweighs the fear of losing her. “Same goes for you. The second you get uncomfortable, you kick me out, okay?” He walks closer to the bed.

She looks back at him and snorts before unfolding the covers. “Come on.” The bed strains a little bit under his added weight. As soon as he’s laying down, she’s looking quite smug. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, Sam’s always up late and I didn’t want to risk waking you…”

She shuffles closer until her head’s on his shoulder and a hand finds its way on his chest. “I don’t see the problem in Sam knowing about this. But if that’s what you need, then I’ll keep it a secret.”

He maneuvers his arm a bit and lets his fingers run through her hair; causing her to exhale deeply. “Do you really not care? His teasing is only going to get worse if he finds out.”

“Nope, I don’t give a fuck.” She chuckles while letting her finger runs circles on his chest. “ _When_ he finds out, I’ll let him have his fun and I’ll gladly admit to liking your presence and trusting you. Are you okay sleeping like that or do you want to sleep on this side?”

Smiling at what she just said, it takes a few seconds before her question registers. “I’m fine right here.” He reaches next to him to turn the light off. Removing his fingers from her hair, he lets his hand rest on her hip. “Good night, Batman.”

“Night, Marilyn.”


	12. Chapter 12

Of course Sam found out and of course he made fun of them and brought Castiel up to speed; who shrugged and smiled at the revelation.

Max enjoyed it and went the playful route by teasing Sam back; offering to come warm his bed sometime. Grabbing Sam’s hand when he’s talking and giggle when he loses his train of thought. Shouting in the hallway before he goes to sleep. _Sam, we’re getting into bed together! Again! Don’t be jealous!_

Dean on the other hand, ignored Sam. Rolling his eyes repeatedly followed by sighing extra loud. Letting Sam feel his wrath at being continuously teased. He kept it up for eight days until he caved and started laughing along.

Just in time for their next job. Her former roommate, Maeve, had sent them a possible case.

Sneaking through the empty streets en route to the edge of a concrete building; hunting vampires. Though appearing to be deserted, Sam had been able to track the comings and goings of at least four of them. Their agreed upon tactic was splitting up and hitting them from three directions at once. Dean from the west, Sam from the south and Max from the east. Getting in their positions, they would send a message when they’re ready.

Waiting for an ok from the others, Dean smiles at the name of their group chat. Sam and Dean had chosen the first three words, while Max and Cas looked at each other and chose the last word with a smirk: ‘league of extraordinary platypuses’. Contemplating what goes on in Max and Cas’ heads, he watches a _Ready._ come in from Sam, followed by _pizzapizzapizza PIZZAHHH_ from Max. Stifling a snort, he waits one minute and sends _GO GO GO_ before pocketing his phone and going inside.

It went so easy, it was laughable.

Finding Sam in another room with the two other decapitated vamps, they look for Max. A slight lump rises in his throat when they can’t seem to find her. “Fuck, Sam, where is she? You sure you didn’t see her back there?”

“I haven’t seen her, Dean. I would’ve said so if I had. Let’s check outside.”

Panic rising inside of him, he pushes everything down until he feels focused. Looking outside a window, he sees her laying face-down in the muddy field at the back of the building. “Shit shit shit!” Rushing outside, he hears Sam’s gasp behind him.

Reaching her in under a minute, he turns her over, checking for wounds while Sam feels her pulse. “Pulse is good. She’s okay, Dean. I think she’s just unconscious.”

Wiping the mud from her face, he slightly taps her face to wake her up. “Come on, Max. Come on. You gotta wake up now, Max.”

“Hang on, let me try this.”

Dean watches Sam empty his water bottle over her face. A couple of seconds pass when she starts spluttering at the water. Pushing the bottle away, she gets up to grab her head with one hand while motioning them to wait with the other. After two minutes, she gets up and starts walking away. Sharing a look of concern with Sam, they catch up with her. Dean walks in front of her to make her come to a stop. She sighs and looks at the ground. “Max? Are you okay? What happened?” She mumbles something unintelligible and exhales a long breath. “What did you say?”

“A bunny, okay?”

Scrunching his face in confusion, he looks at Sam to see a similar expression. “What do you mean? A bunny?”

Still keeping her eyes locked on the ground, she groans and rushes out the next words. “I saw a bunny and I wanted to pet it but then I slipped on something that made me fall on my fucking head and then I woke up to Sam drowning me, okay? Now let me wallow in embarrassment.”

Pushing Dean to the side, she storms off to the direction where they parked the car while he bursts out in laughter. “Oh god.” Sam joins in his laughter as they watch her walk away with her head still held low. “A fucking bunny. Did you see her looking at the ground like that? Oh god.” Wiping away tears, they laugh it off before following behind her. “Awh fuck. My side hurts.”

“Mine too. I haven’t laughed like that in a while.”

They find her sitting in the impala with a cleaned face. Holding her chin up and watching anywhere but them. Suppressing a smile, he taps on her window. She rolls her eyes before rolling the window down. “Are you okay? You scared me.”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she remains silent while Sam places their stuff in the trunk. Laying a hand on her cheek, he turns her head towards his. Finally looking at him, he notices a sad smile. “Apart from dying from embarrassment? Just a headache, I’ll be fine. Sorry I scared you.” Her eyes widen. “Oh fuck, the vamps! Did you get them? Are you okay?”

Feeling relief, he chuckles. “Yeah, we got ‘m all. You going to let Maeve know the job’s done?”

“Already sent a text while you guys were busy laughing your asses off.”

“Well, apparently, laughing is healthy, so…” A genuine smile—albeit small—emerges on her face. “I’m guessing you didn’t let her know about the bunny?” Sam walks past Dean to take his seat in front of her.

She huffs. “Of course not.”

“Hehe.” With reluctance, he lets go of her cheek. “Alright, let’s go home.”

* * *

_Seven months later..._

“When are you going to tell me what’s making you more grumpy than usual?” Sam snarls during lunch, eating in front of a silent Dean. Max was away with Cas; ballet in Russia.

Dean huffs and roughly places his sandwich on his plate. “I don’t know, Sam. When are you going to stop harassing me?”

Sam sighs. “Come on, dude. You know you can tell me anything.”

Running his hands through his hair, he exhales forcibly before staring at a spot next to Sam. “I like her, okay?”

Amusement evident on Sam’s face, he retorts. “Well, yeah. I like her too. Kind of like our little sister. We should just let her take the Winchester name at this point.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he knows what’s Sam getting at and decides to get it over with. “I don’t like her as a sister, Sammy.” Saying it out loud felt good actually, though it isn’t enough to get rid of the anxiety over the thought of losing her if he ever voices his feelings to her. Those feelings, all closed up inside him. Respect, admiration, desire, trust, happiness, love.

Sam smirks. “Oh I know, I honestly can’t remember the last time you even flirted back with another woman. It’s got to be way before Max moved in. I’ve just been waiting for either of you two to figure it out. Would’ve bet my money on her though…”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam laughs while Dean keeps himself serious. “When are you going to tell her?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

Dean answers with a small voice. “I don’t deserve her and I don’t want to lose her.”

“You’re such a dumbass, Dean. Really.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” Dean shrugs while looking at his plate. “She’s not going anywhere, she told me she sees us as her family.”

“Yeah, I know.” He looks Sam in the eye. “Doesn’t mean she won’t run off when I tell her.”

Sam sighs. “You two are _this_ close as _just friends_. Both Cas and I are friends with her and you don’t see us that close, do you? You have to tell her, man.”

“No, I don’t. I won’t risk it. Are you finally going to stop annoying me?”

Sam laughs and nods while Dean resumes eating his sandwich. “If you’ve got some time, I’d like to go over a pattern I noticed.”

“Sure.” Sam waits for him to finish eating and leads him to his laptop in the library.

“Okay, we’ve been going after these low-level demons for a while now, they keep popping up, yeah? Now look at this map I made with the locations we found them at.”

Dean examines the map. “Shit.”

“Exactly.”

“Shit!”

“It’s been happening intermittently in a span of several months now. Sometimes we’re in time but for the most part we find their dead meat suits before we arrive. They’re circling us, aren’t they?” Sam draws a red circle on the map.

“Do Cas or Max know?”

“No, I wanted to run it by you first.” Sam forces a tiny smile. “We’ve pissed a lot of ‘m off over the years…”

“So, it’s only a matter of time before they come for us… and running after them isn’t working.”

Sam scrunches his nose. “I’m thinking, we let Cas drop a few wards and let them come. It’s risky, I know but with the four of us, we can do it.”

A single thought takes over; keeping Max safe. “No, we don’t involve Max. This isn’t her fault.”

Sam looks exasperated. “Dean… she’ll be pissed if you sideline her. That’s for sure a way to lose her. Either you die or she gets angry enough at the lack of trust and she leaves.”

“Don’t use what I told you against me.”

“How else would I use it?” Sam smirks. “You know I’m right.”

“Ugh. Fine. But we keep her safe, you hear me?” He exhales while looking over the map a second time. “Best get it over with as quick as possible. We’ll tell them tomorrow and do it in the afternoon?”

“Deal.”

\ \ \

Waiting until the next day was worth it; to hear the delight in Max’s voice when she described the ballet. Telling her when they got back would have gotten her in hunter mode instantly and ruined the happiness evident in her face. Seeing her happy, made Dean feel happy too.

Both Max and Castiel agreed to the plan without question. Max immediately started laying booby traps around the outside perimeter and in the hallways while Dean checked and cleaned all their weapons. Max jokingly told him to use her painted gun, Robin, as she wouldn’t be needing it. Sam cleared and prepared the library with Cas, they all agreed it was the best place if it came to a fight. Sam and Max insisted Cas transported all the books to another room for safekeeping.

When they’re finished, they eat the piping hot pizza Castiel had gotten. While she talks animatedly to Sam about the best way to lay booby traps, Dean gazes at her tenderly. On a whim, he wraps his hand softly around her wrist under the table and rubs circles with his thumb. Glancing down and back up without halting her conversation, Max unfolds her hand, palm up, as an invitation. Dean caresses her wrist before placing his hand in hers. Her soft squeeze makes his heart skip a few beats. Not letting go of her, he gathers his wits and joins back in on the conversation.

\ \ \

In the armory, Sam takes his weapons of choice and leaves to get a quick bathroom break. Dean hides all sorts of weapons on himself while he notices Max talking to Castiel. A few words echo throughout the room. “…scared…reaction…promise me…please” Her eyes lock with Dean’s for a second; a sadness noticeable in them. She smiles softly as he walks over to them.

“Which weapons are you going to take?” She taps the knife on her hip. “Don’t do this to me Max. Please. You can’t go out there with one lousy knife.”

“I don’t need it, per se. Makes me look fashionable.” She smirks while Cas rolls his eyes.

“Do I have to hold you down while Cas places weapons in your pockets?”

“Don’t tempt me like that.” She pokes him in the belly. “But honestly, Dean, I don’t need any. Cas can confirm.”

“Dean, she has _never_ needed any weapons. She’s only been using them to keep a low profile.” She winks at Cas. “I’m ready to pull the wards down.”

Cas walks away. She wraps her arm around Dean’s torso as she leads him out of the armory. “What? What does he mean? Low profile? This is crazy. Both of you. What if they come after you, Max? What if I can’t protect you in time?”

Chuckling, she looks up at him. “Just concentrate on keeping yourself and Sam safe. Trust me, please?”

“Fuck, Max. Of course I trust you, but this is your life we’re talking about. I can’t just—“

She stops in her tracks. “Hey. I know this doesn’t make sense and it looks insane but I know what I’m doing. I will tell you every goddamn thing afterwards. You’ll beg me to shut up.”

“How can you be so sure there will be an after?”

She sighs and lets her head rest against his shoulder. “Because I refuse to go in there, thinking we’re all going to die. It’s demons. Easy. Besides, I’m fighting next to the Winchesters and a literal angel. We’re going to be fine.”

Crushing her a bit closer to him, letting his head rest on hers, he decides to see it her way. “We’re going to be fine.”

“Now, let’s go slacker or we’re going to be late to our demon orgy.” Her laughter rings all the way until they reach the library. Cleared of most furniture, they formed a huge square to fight in. Letting go of her, he takes his place next to Sam, near the middle of the room. Cas stands behind them to the right, and Max to their left.

“Wards are going down, now.” His eyes turn blue but nothing visibly happens. “Done. Prepare yourselves.”

Inhaling and exhaling, he counts the seconds. Forty-two seconds and five disheveled, black-eyed demons zip into existence, right before them. Their gaze travels from the brothers to Castiel. Dean clears his throat, causing them to pin their gaze on him. “Nice of you to show up. So, tell me, did you get your panties twisted in a bunch when we killed one of your own? Is that why you’re _trying_ to get to us?”

“Winchesters. Always so… arrogant.” Sighing, the demon lets his eyes wander to Sam. “Arrogant enough to think we came for them.” Another sigh as he focuses on Cas. “Grover.“ A demon in the back exhales while reluctantly rolling up his sleeve, revealing a bloodied carving in his skin. Swiftly biting the top of his index finger off, he presses the remaining stump into the symbol.

Castiel screams. Legs giving out beneath him. He clatters to the ground as Max sprints to his side, trying to keep him upright. Blood dripping from his mouth. Max grabbing his wrist and talking in his ear. “No no no no, Cas. Merde. Come on, Cas!”

Not wanting to turn his back to the demons, he reigns in his anger and shares a meaningful look with Sam. “Grover. Next.” Too late to raise his gun to take out this Grover, Sam and Dean get crushed by an incredible force, slamming them against the wall behind them. Wincing while trying to regain his breathing, he watches as Sam has difficulty getting up as well. The demon looks at them dispassionately and turns his eyes to their right. “Come along. I don’t have time to fight right now.”

* * *

Feeling Castiel’s pulse weakening by the second, she knows by instinct, there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Gently laying Cas down, Max starts chuckling, hunched over with her hands on her thighs. “Fellas.” Standing straight, her eyes turn bright blue, causing the demons to take a few steps back. Having gotten their attention, she walks past a stunned Sam and Dean. Positioning herself in front of them; anger radiates off of her as she speaks through clenched teeth. “I’m free. Right. The. Fuck. Now.”

One of the demons throws a knife at her. “NO! MAX!” Whoever’s shouting doesn’t register in her ears as the knife hits an invisible wall millimeters in front of her head. She spreads her arms to warn the others to remain behind her. The four other demons start throwing knives or shoot at her.

The sound her hands make when she slaps them together reverberates throughout the room; all demons cease to move and seem frozen in place. “I’ve had enough of this.” Walking forward amongst the bullets and weapons, until she comes to a standstill in front of the one who seemed to be in charge. “This has been pathetic and insulting.” She turns to Grover while trying to hide the tremble in her arms. “Who sent you?” Giving him two seconds to answer, he doesn’t respond and goes up in flames without black smoke escaping. Castiel’s coughing comes from behind her and relief hits her system. She calmly turns to the female demon, who’s eyes are frantically looking at the burning corpse next to her. “Who sent you?” Again, no answer, with the same result. “Who sent you?” The two she had turned to, lift their chin in defiance before burning to a crisp.

The last one—the leader—starts speaking before she turns to him. “She won’t stop, you know. She’ll never stop, no matter how many of us you kill.”

“Who sent you?” Two seconds; no answer. This time, she lays her hand flat on his chest and sighs. “Let her come then, I’ll wait.” Without delay, his skin starts to grow dull while the black in his eyes simmers out. A few seconds later he falls down into millions of specks of dust. Turning around, she watches the three men. “Are you guys okay?”

Silence. Stunned silence while they try to form words. Patiently waiting on them, her eyes go back to their original brown color. “The wards are back up now.” Castiel says as he slowly gets up, walking over and hugging her. “Your arms were shaking. How drained are you? Take some of mine.”

Returning the hug, she keeps her eyes on the others as they examine her every move. “I took what I needed from the last guy. I’ll be fine.” Before getting released from the hug, Cas squeezes her tightly. Snapping his fingers, he removes all the demon dust and the corpses; turning the room back to its normal state.

“Wait—she’s an angel too?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (is she though?)


	13. Chapter 13

Exhaling a trembling breath, Max focuses on her hands while emotions run through her.

Fear.

Dread.

She glances at Cas and sighs. “Time for full disclosure, isn’t it?”

He places his hand on her shoulder. “It would seem so.” He takes a seat on the large table, with the other two following him.

Exhaling, she takes a seat next to Cas and decides to get comfortable by switching to a cross-legged position. “I’m not an angel. They wish they were as awesome as me.” The sentence should be confident and cheerful, yet it comes out croaked. “You guys do deserve the truth. If I’m honest with myself—I don’t even know why I held back from telling you for so long. Who I am, what happened. It’s just, it’s a lot to talk about and it’s not all sunshine and daisies. Questions after I’m done, please?” Her mind wanders to the fact she placed all those booby traps for nothing. _Oh, well._

Both nod and Cas gives her a comforting smile. “We’re here, take your time.” Dean says.

“I’ve been talking to Cas about the logistics behind it. I had my theories but Cas confirmed I am—“ She exhales a trembling breath. “—I am from another reality. Another Earth. One where there are no monsters, at least not like the ones here.” Not wanting to see their faces, she stares at her hands. “Cas told me it’s actually eight times bigger than this Earth. Over the centuries, humans had started to evolve, to adapt. We don’t even know how long ago because they made sure everything was erased from history. All I know is gathered from oral history passed down from the elders.”

Wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, she lets them fall down in her lap. “Babies started showing mutant genes. At first it was a novelty and as these babies grew older, people realized the power that lay in their genes. Some could make flowers sprout in the harshest environments, others could breathe the most toxic gasses without any problem or shatter every glass in their vicinity with a single thought.

The rich and powerful were scared of this new threat. Scared they’d be wiped out. They started massacring these mutants. When word got out, people went into hiding. An underground resistance movement formed, they called themselves The Entombed. Over the centuries, they tried rescuing as many mutants as they could. Raising their numbers as they were simultaneously hunted. And so it continued on and on.

While the mutants _lived_ in the darkness, the humans were _made_ of it. When I was young, I used to believe that it was a shadow cast over their soul. Surrounding them in fear and anger. And all you had to do was let the sun shine through it; just a pinprick and the shadow would pass. I didn’t know any better.

When they attacked, they would shoot you in the leg or the knee first; to slow you down. Why not add a bullet in the foot or in the shoulder? And one in the other shoulder? The lucky ones got a headshot after that. Others… were left to bleed out in agony or got taken to never be seen again. There were rumors they were trying to eradicate the entire mutant gene. Anyway, we shot them clean in the head if possible or killed them instantly with our powers. None of that _being the better person_ shit. It saved our hides lots of times and allowed The Entombed to survive for so long.

Our elders and their elders can’t remember a time when humans weren’t like that. We’ve always been hunted. So, we always kept running and fighting back when we could. We had to. We had to hold on; if not for ourselves, for the others who could come after us. Knowing it’s a losing battle and still having to fight for that tiny sliver of hope that someday, after we’re long dead and gone, the darkness will pass… At times, it was the only thing that kept us going. It fucked us up, all of us.”

Sam clears his throat. “So, you’re a mutant? And part of The Entombed?”

Having dreaded this question, she opens her mouth a few times but no answer comes out. Yet, it’s such a simple answer. _Yes. Yes, I am!_ Castiel answers in her place. “Yes, she is Sam. I could sense she was different the second I met her, though surprisingly, her being in this reality has not disturbed the natural order.”

Still staring at her hands, Max continues, as if uninterrupted. “The ones before us had build massive constructions, like these giant underground villages. In our compound, we spoke what is called French here. Though we spoke English too, to communicate with other groups. I was born underground to mutant parents, in the Dubois family. We use a different measurement of years, but I did the math and I was born on November 30th in your 1988. When I was ten, my powers started developing. It starts at a different age for everyone.” She takes a deep breath and steels herself for any kind of reaction. “Energy—it’s everywhere, in everything, _everyone_. It’s absolutely beautiful. My family nicknamed me the conduit. In short, I can absorb and harness energy. I’ve honed my ability since childhood so I can shape energy like bullets, needle pricks, create a sort of stasis field around something and completely annihilate the contents or make them kind of overcharge and burn up or explode. That’s what I did with the vampires in that cabin, by the way. I was planning on getting rid of the explosion marks after I had some rest but then you guys had to show up.” She smiles softly in remembrance. “When necessary, my own energy envelops me like a protective layer, though this drains me drastically. That’s why my arms started trembling earlier. Manipulating energy is easy, it’s always in motion. But the protective layer comes from my own energy, my life force if you will. I don’t think it would kill me but I don’t think it’s infinite either. Maybe I’ll find out someday, who knows?

Anyway, my parents died when I was fifteen during an attack on our compound. I ran with the others to another compound, the Moreau family, they took us in and nursed our wounded. It’s kind of like big families, just adding people to it without question. To commemorate the fallen, they brought out a casket of Cilvandir—it’s a sort of moonshine, you could say. To drink when we lose someone is universal among all compounds, though each family has their own brew.

When I was close to turning nineteen, I was outside; working a small field some miles away from our place. In the distance, I could hear the whirling of helicopter blades so I ran like hell to a cave close-by.” Feeling her voice grow heavy, she swallows a few times before continuing. “I was foolishly not paying attention to the ground—all I could think about was that I was going to die if they caught me, or worse. Not far from the cave, I fell down in what I think was an old shaft and landed on my knee. God, the sound it made. Bones sticking out. And the pain was excruciating, so I bit my hand to stop myself from crying out. It must have been hours when I could no longer hear the helicopter and I made my way out on the flimsy stairs by pulling myself up on my arms. I couldn’t stand on my leg so I crawled all the way back to our place. I don’t know how long it took me, I don’t think I want to know.

We had a kid among us, Jean-Louis, who’s ability was to heal others. He tried so hard, he really did. But he was so small, four years old and he’d only been training for two weeks. I told him to stop when his nose started bleeding. He cried, can you believe that? This small child cried because he couldn’t heal me completely. We lost Jean-Louis five days later after he ate something toxic. So, I recovered the old fashioned, long way but my knee was never the same. The elders and I came to a mutual decision to no longer fight on the frontline. Instead, I started helping the kids train their abilities and I became their protector during attacks.”

She stands up and stretches her legs before taking a peek at their faces. Cas, smiling at her in encouragement and Sam looking at her with sympathy. Dean keeps his gaze steady on her eyes. Unable to look away, she gazes back until he smiles softly. “You need a break, Max?”

Smiling back, she shakes her head before sitting down again with her legs stretched under the table. “We were relatively safe for years. When there was an attack, our frontline warriors took care of them. Until about six years ago, when the humans organized a massive assault on our compound. It happened so fast.” With every sentence, her voice grows more steady. Even though she has worked through her trauma over the years, unveiling it to her family feels like going through a final step. Voicing every tiny detail feels like a weight being lifted from her chest. Liberating. “Our alarm sounded while the lightning turned purple. It was our code to scatter and save yourselves. While some of the others kept the humans at bay, I gathered our children and elders.

One of my kids—my trainees, Augustin, was a fourteen year old boy who could create portals. He created one to a family about ninety kilometers west. As he held it open, I guided everyone through. I was about to go in when a bomb went off, nearly knocking us out. It had created a crater in our wall, opening out into the hallway. His ears and mouth were bleeding but he kept his cool and crafted a new portal. I’d never been more proud of him. I stepped in the circle without hesitating and walked out in a beautiful field with these gorgeous red flowers. They were so vibrant.” Mind racing through all the little details. _No use now. Can’t change the damn outcome._ “Augustin stumbled out next to me and fell down, face first; passed out from the exertion. At least, that’s what I thought until I noticed the bullet wound in the back of his skull.”

A quiet part of her mourned while a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I couldn’t hear any fighting anymore and the field was surrounded by trees, so I dragged his body to the edge of the forest. I took the time to bury him underneath some rocks and leaves. After that I just walked and walked until I reached a small town at the edge of the trees. I didn’t understand at first. There were no signs with anti-mutant slander on the walls or guards with power-suppressant rifles. No gates or fences anywhere. The air smelled different, too. So, I started observing and it did take me two or three days to figure out that this wasn’t the same world where I came from. Augustin probably didn’t know he had created a portal to another world.” She chuckles. “He would’ve been so proud of himself and wanting to show off his discovery to the elders.”

Sam interjects. “He sounds like a great kid.”

“He was. Brilliant student, too.” She smiles softly in remembrance. “With no way back and starving, I observed some houses in the town until I gathered my courage and knocked on a man’s door; asking for shelter and food. Kind as he was, Jim MacDougall took me in. We actually became great friends. In town, we pretended I was his estranged daughter.

In truth, he was a hunter who’d lost his partner years ago and he showed me the ropes. When we weren’t hunting, we were watching superhero movies and listening to any kind of music. Jimmy loved any kind of music, couldn’t get enough of it. We were hunting partners for close to five years until he got killed in a car accident, of all things. Drunk driver got him. In the next month, I met Maeve and moved in with her and the other women. A year later I met you guys and now I’m here.”

She releases a long breath and wipes away a tear. The others remain silent, letting it all sink in. Cas, already knowing everything, offers her a kindness. “If you want, I could check how everything’s going in your home world?”

“No! No. Don’t wanna know what happened to ‘m. In my mind, they all made it out alive. Found another safe place. One where they don’t have to be afraid of every sound. No running.”

“How many people know about your Jedi powers?” Dean asks.

“Unfortunately; not a Jedi. Fuck! I wish I was as cool as a Jedi! Pfft… Jimmy knew. Now it’s just Maeve and you guys. Frankly, I don’t use ‘m that much unless I’m hunting alone or charging my car. I’m always careful, making sure others don’t notice. It would be easy to be seen as another monster or a commodity. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you guys.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.” Dean says solemnly.

Sam snorts. “Don’t think she needs _us_ protecting _her_ , Dean, she’s a survivor.” He turns to Max with a curious gaze. “Am I right in thinking you could take out an angel by draining their energy?”

Castiel answers first. “You are correct.”

“I would never do that to you, Cas!”

Sam laughs. “Relax, Max. We trust you.”

Dean interrupts Sam’s laughter with another question. “When they attacked your compound, I take it you ran through tunnels to the other families if there wasn’t a portal around?” Max nods. “How did you stop the monsters from following in those tunnels?”

“There were secret tunnel entrances that you couldn’t see if you were standing right in front of it. Even _if_ they found them, we had codes—I told you about code purple: scatter and save yourselves. Purple meant a timer started going off that gave us twenty minutes to get out—past a certain point. After that time, all the tunnels going in and out would collapse and the compound would get flooded. Hesitating gets you killed. You get out or you die.” She exhales. “Code yellow gave us four minutes to find a mask before a toxin would be released in the ventilation; deadly to inhale.” Sam swallows loudly. “Code red meant sacrifice. I’ve only heard about two families who had to resort to that. When they are overwhelmed with enemy forces and there’s no way out, they bomb the entire compound with everyone in it—humans _and_ mutants.”

“That’s… smart and brutal at the same time. Also explains why you started booby trapping everywhere.” Dean scratches his chin. “Living like that; how come you aren’t like… I don’t know. More angry at life or something?” She tilts her head in confusion. “I mean, you have a really nice personality for someone who has gone through all that.”

“I could say the same about all of you… But actually, back there, I never took the time to say to myself ‘ _Hey, how does this make me feel? Am I okay with any of this? Am I actually okay? Do I even know what okay means for me?‘_. Here, I have been angry about it and devastated and frustrated... I’ve gone through all the emotions until they weren’t so raw anymore. Jimmy helped me work through most of it. He helped me process them and learn to let go and I had never felt so light before. Been allowing myself a great deal of fun too, letting my inner child finally come out to play.”

Sam clears his throat. “Max? What happened with Jean-Louis, is that the reason why you didn’t let Cas heal any of your injuries?”

She sighs and nods. “I can’t go through that again. I guess I haven’t worked through that one, yet. I’m sorry, Cas. I just can’t.”

“I understand. Don’t worry.” The cathartic experience finally hits her and makes relief flood her emotions. Exhaling a long breath. Eyes watering. Laughter bubbling up in her chest. Crying and laughing at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this entire background story is what started everything for this fic, right up until the moment she walked through the portal. Then I had to figure out the world where she could've ended up. It came surprisingly easy when I thought of it as is this:  
> World 1, hunted by humans.  
> World 2, she becomes the hunter—alongside humans.
> 
> I'm quite curious to see what you guys think of her background ^.^
> 
> (PS, next chapter will finally change the slow burn into full on burn! ö)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut warning ^.^

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet.” Cas sighs and looks down at the floor. “I went along with your plan because I… I thought if we let these demons come here, we would get the most of them and buys us more time. They have been gathering around this area for months now. My brothers and sisters, we’ve been updating each other and getting rid of most of the demons. We also captured one and got him to talk.”

“It’s okay, Cas. What did he say?” Sam says kindly.

“They’ve been hunting Max.” A calmness descends on her. “Some upper demon who must be specifically in tune with Max her powers, noticed surges and has been sending her minions to pinpoint who or what they come from. They’ve been looking for years. Max, you pulsate energy, even when resting. It’s not that big of a signal to me since I only noticed it when I got in close proximity to you.”

“Who is she? What do they want from me? Execute me? I can’t just get rid of my powers to get her off my back…”

“We thought we could kill them all so you’d never be in immediate danger.” Cas exhales forcibly. “She—Rosalia—wants to torture you into obedience and then proceed to use you as a puppet. To keep her enemies and her servants on their knees. I’m sorry, Max. As for your power, it’s an integral part of your DNA, erasing it would destroy you.” One or two gulps can be heard. “One of my sisters is in the process of creating an Enochian spell to keep your essence hidden. Though, she’s had no luck so far.”

Max inhales and pins her gaze on Castiel, who has trouble looking back. “Where can I find this demon?”

“Max.” Castiel swallows. “You’ll be nothing but a shell if she gets her hands on you.”

A smirk forms at the edge of her mouth. “But what if I get my hands on her first?”

“Max, you can’t be serious.” Sam exclaims softly.

“Sam, she has the audacity to send her slaves in here and hurt my family? Her days are numbered and we all know it.” She turns her gaze from Sam back to Cas. “Come on, Cas. Tell me where she is so I can finish this.”

Spluttering for an answer, he opens his mouth a couple of times before turning to Dean, who takes over. “Max, listen to me, sweetheart. You know we’re coming with you. That’s not up for debate.” She rolls her eyes at him. “But, hear me out. Let’s get that spell to keep your powers hidden first. When we have that, she won’t see you coming.”

“I am listening, love, and I hear you.” She stops for half of a second, realizing she called Dean _love_ , a word she said without thinking about it. A word that encapsulates how she feels about him.

_Oh._

_Oh, fuck._

Quickly continuing with the rest of her sentence, in hope no one noticed her blurting out her feelings—or the blush creeping up her neck. “But that could take months—no offence to your sister, Cas.” She turns to Cas, away from Dean’s widened eyes. Determined to get this threat away from them, away from Dean; she plays on Castiel’s sympathies.“If you know her location, please, I beg you. Please tell me.”

“I… I can’t, Max. I’m sorry.” He looks apologetic and sad at the same time. “You don’t realize in how much danger you are.”

“If I’m in danger, so are they.” She waves her hand in Sam and Dean’s general direction. “Every second that demon’s out there, our family’s in danger.” Swallowing down her frustration, her voice turns calm. “You know what I have to do if you don’t tell me. I’ll have no other option.”

“Woah, Max.” Sam says.

“What do you mean, what are you going to do?” Dean’s voice comes from behind her.

Castiel smiles softly at her before answering in her place. “She’s going to leave and take the danger away from us.” Casting her eyes at her shoes, she gets ready for the barrage of questions or accusations. They never come. “We physically cannot stop you. But now I’m the one begging you. Stay. Stay and wait. When we get the spell, we’ll take her out—as a family. Together.”

“That’s right, Max, we’ll do it together.” The smile evident in Sam’s voice.

“Please, Max.” Pleading coats Dean’s voice.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she exhales. “Ugh, you guys are the worst! I’m trying to protect you here. Fine. Be in fucking danger.” Castiel snaps his finger and Max finds herself holding a cup of tea. “Seriously?” Casting him an annoyed glance, the aroma fills her nostrils. Chamomile tea.

The others start opening tablets and laptops. Occasionally asking more questions about her world. Carrying on. Casting glances at Max who continues sipping her tea while staring at a space in the distance. Running over all her options, one by one.

* * *

Watching the gears spinning in her mind; he can feel it in his bones, the absolute certainty that she’s going to go after the demon on her own. Placing her mug on the table, she walks away into the hallway and Dean runs after her. “Hey, wait up.” Grabbing her hand from behind, she turns to him and opens her mouth to say something. His other hand cups her face and she closes her mouth; waiting. Gazing kindly in his eyes. Ridding his mind of the suspicion she’s going after the demon alone, he focuses on her beautiful brown eyes and his increasing heartbeat. Remembering what she called him. Her brows raise in concern when he hasn’t spoken for a minute. His voice comes out in a whisper. “Please tell me I’m not going insane. That I’m not hearing things. That you feel the same. ‘Cause I fucking love you and if you don’t feel the same just say the word and I’ll shut my goddamn cakehole about it.”

Her eyes widen as her mouth drops open, his gaze drawn to her lips and back to her eyes. “We’re probably both insane, there’s no debate there.” She keeps her gaze steady on him while a bright smile forms. “I love you too, Dean. I think I have for a while now.”

“Thank god.” Exhaling slowly, he feels warmth fill his chest. ”Can you call me that again? Like you did earlier?”

Standing on her tippy toes, her hands wounding their way around his neck. “Call you what again, _love_?” Feeling her fingers card through his hair, makes him close his eyes in bliss.

“Again, please?” Grabbing her by the waist, he crushes her against his torso.

Her lips form a tiny kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, love.” Another one at the opposite corner. “Are you sure you’re okay, my love?”

Cradling the back of her head with one hand and the other bracing her back, he feels her melting in his arms. Leaning in closer, his breath shakes before pressing his mouth softly against hers. Lips moving together, slow and passionate. Tasting chamomile tea. Tingling in his spine. Stopping the kiss to catch his breath, he breaths the next words into her panting mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

She pulls his face down again for a deep kiss and he could swear the entire world could crumble around them and he would never even notice. Breaking the kiss, she lets her forehead lean against his and laughs softly. “This is real, right? And you’re okay with me being a mutant? And practically an alien?”

With a smile, he takes a hold of her hand, lifts it to this mouth and places a small kiss on her palm. “The realest stuff I’ve ever felt.” Another kiss while her eyes never leave his. “I love every goddamn part of you.” Looking at him with a look he can only describe as pure love, he makes sure to sear the image in his brain. Closing her eyes, she smiles tenderly while wrapping her arm around him. Holding him as close as possible. “When were you planning on leaving?”

She exhales and places a kiss against his chest; keeping her eyes closed. “I would’ve been gone by now if you hadn’t come after me. Not that I minded _that_.”

“You know I’m coming with you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Opening her eyes, her glance strays to his mouth.

“Good. If we leave now, Sam and Cas won’t look for us until tomorrow morning.”

“Come here.” Searing their mouths together again, he can feel her smiling against his lips. Feeling her lips move to his jaw, she plants sweet kisses up until his ear. “Meet me in the garage?”

“Nuh-uh. You’re going to take off without me. I know you, sweetheart.”

“A girl can try, right?” Kissing that devious smirk away leaves her panting for breath. “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, to be honest.” His hand reaches out to rest slightly above her hip and she cocks her eyebrow. Fingers tracing tender patterns while her pupils dilate.

“I’ll get that demon later, then.”

* * *

Excitement flashes in Dean’s eyes before he picks her up; smiling against each other’s lips and stumbling to his bedroom. Breathing heavily in her ear while holding her against his bedroom door and locking it. Letting her legs drop down gently; grinding his hips into her. Letting her feel all of him. Swallowing her moan with a kiss.

Piece by piece they undress each other as they move closer to the bed; grinning as they let their eyes get their fill. Hands roaming. Splaying her hand across his stomach. Cupping her face in both hands, kissing her slow and languidly while picking her up again and laying her gently down on his bed. Breaking the kiss to lean back and look down in her eyes before planting kisses along her throat. Trailing down and locking his mouth around her nipple. Feeling his tongue rolling her nipple in her mouth and luring a gasp out of her. Sending a current of heat throughout her entire body.

Smiling, he slowly continues trailing down her stomach and spreads her legs without pause, until she feels the warmth of his mouth on her clit. Biting her lip, she looks down into his eyes. After sending her a quick wink, he moves a hand to rest on her stomach and resumes flicking his tongue. Tasting her. Kissing her. “Fuckkk.” Her hands grasping the sheets, eyes shut to concentrate on the sensations running through her. Another gasp as she feels him push one finger in, curling it gently inside. “Oh god, Dean.” Humming vibrations as he appears to be chuckling shortly before adding a second finger, followed by a third a while later. Hips rocking and toes curling. “Don’t stop.. Fuck, I can’t… Please.” Each touch sending sparks through her until the pleasure finally peaks into a powerful orgasm.

Seconds of breathless silence as her body comes down from its high, seconds in which he plants gentle kisses on her thighs and whispers words of endearments. Laughing softly, she finally opens her eyes again to find him resting his cheek on her thigh, smiling tenderly at her while stroking lazy patterns on her stomach. “Damn, sweetheart.”

She laughs again. “Come here.”

As he climbs on top of her, she cups her hands behind his neck and gazes in his loving eyes. “You sure you want to continue? I don’t want to pressure y—“

Swiftly pulling him in for a soft kiss. Tasting herself on his lips. “Absolutely. I want you.”

“Thank god.” He laughs as he exhales. “I just… let me grab a condom.”

“Wait. I have an IUD and I’m clean.”

“Oh. I’m clean too.” He kisses her jaw. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, love.”

Her hand trailing down his stomach before taking a hold of his dick. His breath hitching. Fingers tightening their grip and stroking him slowly, coaxing a groan from him. “Fuck… I need…” Smiling up at him and hooking her legs around him. Their mouths joining at the same time as their bodies. His thickness drawing a gasp from her. Slowly filling her. “Fuck, Max. Feels so fucking good.” Heads resting against each other, breaths shortening. 

Max waits a few more seconds to let her body adjust to him. Letting her hands slide down his back, feeling the muscles. Giving him a nod, he slowly begins building up a pace. Meeting his strokes with her hips as he’s buried his nose in her neck. Grunting while gripping her waist and pushing himself deeper inside. The intensity sending waves of pleasure through her body. “Dean...” Thrusts turning harder as he lifts her leg to get just that little bit deeper.

Locking eyes as he rest his forehead against hers. Unspoken words passing through their gaze. His fingers find her clit, eliciting moans he eagerly swallows with a kiss. The combined sensations push her over the edge; warmth washing over from head to toe. “Oh god, Max.” Head thrown back as she trembles in ecstasy. He grits his teeth. “So fucking gorgeous.” His pumps increase until he comes with a feral groan, pushing his face into her neck and slumping next to her. Letting their breathing calm down.

His mouth turns into a smirk before getting up and walking to the sink. Dean comes back with a warm washcloth and cleans her up with great gentleness. Throwing it back into the sink, he drapes himself next to her again. Max releases a breathy laugh as they lock eyes. “Damn…”

“Yeah…” Cradling her head and lips meeting slowly. “We’re never getting out of this bed, are we?”

“Nope.”

She watches his fingers trail down from her throat to her sternum, coming to a stop between her breasts. “I’ve been wondering how far down that blush of yours went. Drove me insane just thinking about it.”

“Pfft. I never blush.”

“Of course you don’t.” Lacing their fingers together on her chest.“Except all the times I got you flustered. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Max.” She thumps her head against his chest and groans. “Don’t worry about it, I love your blushing.” He plants a soft kiss on her breast closest to him.

“Uhhh, Dean? Is Max in there with you?” Sam shouts hesitantly from the hallway.

Sitting up, she shouts at the door. “Don’t come in Sam, we’re watching alien porn. It’s not meant for your pure eyes.” Dean rolls his eyes as Max giggles.

“Gross, Max. Castiel wants to talk about a plan for the demon. His sister, Amena, is here.”

With Dean drawing lazy patterns on her back, goose bumps burst out. “ _When_ does he want to talk, Sammy?”

“Now…”

With a pout, she turns her head to Dean. “No sneaking off to kill Rosalia myself, I guess.”

“We can still do that later, if you want. Let’s hear what Amena has to say first.”

Reluctantly getting up, she groans. “Uggggghh.” Picking the clothes off the ground, she throws his at him.

“Did you guys hear me? He wants to talk. Now.” The door knob rattles. “Eww god, you’re actually watching porn together, aren’t you?”

“Just a second Sam, the alien’s close to climaxing.” Slowly putting their clothes on, both have trouble looking away from each other. Unlocking the door and waiting beside it, she checks Dean out from head to toe as he walks towards her. _Damn._ Without pause he pulls her in for a short but searing kiss. _Damn_. When they break apart, they let their heads rest against each other. “Suppose we keep them waiting? Get in another round? Two?”

“You’ve got no idea how much I want to but Sammy’s gonna burst in here if we keep him waiting any longer… “

“Ugh, I do have a demon to kill as well, ughhh. Okay.” She blows out a long breath. “I’m gonna grab some tea and I’ll meet you in there?”

“Promise you won’t ditch us and go after her?”

Poking his stomach she smiles up at him. “Promise. I’ll need my partner in crime next to me when I go after her.”

He chuckles as he plants a kiss on her nose. “All right, let’s hear them out before we go and gank that demon.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut warning

In truth, she needs that cup of tea to keep her hands occupied. To keep them off of Dean, since they didn’t discuss if they want to keep _them_ a secret. If it was up to her, she’d run in and just tell the others what’s going on. Except, it isn’t just her now.

Walking in the room, her eyes fall on the woman with blonde hair standing next to Castiel, Amena. She’s nearly as tall as Cas. Amena’s serious gaze is locked onto hers as she takes a seat next to Sam at the table. Smiling softly at Amena, she turns to Sam and mentions something as if she’s reading the weather report. “Tentacles, Sam… lots of them.” Taking a sip from her tea, she watches in amusement as his eyes grow big while he’s thinking of something to say. “I’ll send you the link, later.”

Ignoring her wink, he gives up and turns to Castiel. “Cas, can you please tell them what’s going on?”

Casting a glance to the other side of the table, she shares a soft smile with Dean. “Amena managed to capture and interrogate another demon while the others attacked us in the bunk—“

“Word is spreading quickly through their ranks.” Amena lays her hands on the table as she zeroes in on Max. “Rosalia is getting bored with their lack of progress and is considering coming to get you herself now she’s certain where you are. I strongly recommend you go after her without delay.”

Castiel speaks up again. “As Max’s number one plan was to interrogate demons until one would break, we’re quite fortunate Amena managed to get Rosalia’s whereabouts out of the demon as well.”

“Tssk, Cas. It’s rather rude to listen in on my thoughts without knocking first.”

“I am sorry but your thoughts were very loud, you were practically shouting them at everyone.”

“Is that right? How about you listen to this one?” Raising her eyebrow, she stares him down.

_< < [I LIKE BIG BUTTS AND I CANNOT LIE, YOU OTHER BROTHERS CAN’T DENY THAT WHEN A GIRL WALKS IN WITH AN ITTY BITTY W](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X53ZSxkQ3Ho)— >>_

“Not this again, Max. Focus, please.”

She huffs. “Rude, much. You know better than to interrupt a classic.” Dean turns to her and tilts his chin up, a silent question. “Sir Mix-A-Lot.” Grinning at him, she watches him smile in delight.

“Max…” Castiel sighs, mildly irritated.

_< <If you heard me projecting my plans, you heard us, too. Right?>>_

_< <I shut you both out as soon as I realized. I’m happy for you. About time, though. I’ll finally win a bet against Sam when he finds out.>>_

_< <What! What bet?>>_

_< <How long it would take you guys to confess your feelings for each other. He bet it would happen within the first three months. I said within the year.>>_

_< <What did you win? Please tell me it’s something awesome.>>_

_< <Ten bucks.>>_

_< <Dude, really! You could’ve gone all out with this, Cas! Ten bucks, pfft.>>_

“You are correct, Castiel. She has an extremely loud mind.”

“Now now, Amena, don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Sending a wink to Amena, the angel keeps a stoic look as she drops a map on the table.

“She’s in that building.”

“You’re coming with us?” Sam asks kindly.

“I found out where she lives. Of course I go.”

Max grins at Amena’s statement. “I like you. Can you stay with us? Please?”

Amena fixes her stern gaze on Max. “Ça suffit, Maximilienne.” Opening her mouth to say something, Amena holds up her hand. “Tu _veux_ mourir?” Appalled at the question if she _wants_ to die, she locks her jaw and shakes her head. “Alors, concentre-toi.”

“Fine. I’ll concentrate, you don’t have to be so rude about it. I’ll ask you to move in with us, again, after we get rid of Rosalia.” Amena rolls her eyes as a small smile forms at the corner of her mouth. “So, where is the asswipe staying at and how fast can you get me there?”

“Us.” Dean points out.

“How fast can you get _us_ there?” She shares a knowing smirk with Dean.

Amena and Castiel sigh at the same time before Castiel folds open the map and points to a building. “Her lair is about an eleven hour drive away from here. However… we are quite certain she will be able to detect the presence of angels.”

Amena continues. “The five of us drive there and she will know we’re coming or we fly you there and she will know we’re coming. Either way, we will have no element of surprise. The three of you driving there on your own is no option either.”

“Why not?” Dean asks.

“Why go in with three when you can go in with five?”

“We’re more than capable.” Dean scoffs. “Look. How about we drive there, give you a call when we’re close and you fly in?”

“Still no element of surprise.”

“Then we go in without surprising her.” Sam says. “She’s planning to go after Max herself, she’s probably preparing for just that. She won’t be prepared for us showing up at her doorstep. What will she be able to do if we give her the shortest amount of reaction time? Lock the door?” Sam snorts. “I agree with Dean, the three of us drive there and you two show up at the last minute. This will also give your other sister a few more hours to try the Enochian spell.” Sam turns to Castiel. “Would that be enough time?”

Amena and Castiel turn to each other as they seem to be having an internal conversation. A short nod from Amena before Castiel speaks. “More time is always welcome, though Envir has had no luck for the past months.” He locks eyes with Sam. “We agree with the plan.”

Sam rubs his hand together and laughs. “All right, guys, get ready for a road trip. Let’s leave in an hour.” Max and Dean keep their eyes on each other, both running over their options in their mind.

“Sam, wait.” Amena says firmly. “If I’m not mistaken it has been a long day and it is not safe for humans to drive while tired.”

Max watches Dean’s expression lit up with a cheeky smile. “Great idea, Amena. Sam, Dean, sleep, now!” She scrambles out of her seat and is already in the hallway before she hears Dean’s footsteps a while behind her. Walking in his room, she slips out of her shoes and begins unbuttoning her pants with her back to the door.

A second after the door shuts, she feels him wrap his arms around her from behind. Breathing in her neck as his hand wanders around her waist, coming to a rest on her stomach. Pulling her closer to him. “Never seen you walk so fast, sweetheart.” Snorting at his statement, she reaches for his head and pulls his face closer before locking her lips with his. After a while they break apart to steady their breathing, heads resting next to each other. His fingers skirt alongside the edge of her pants. “These are going to have to go.”

Turning around, she watches him bite his bottom lip as she slowly undresses in front of him. He steps forward to touch her but she quickly takes a step back. “Your turn, love.” He snaps his gaze to her with a hungry look in his eyes. She takes a seat at the edge of the bed and watches him take of his clothes in no time.

She smirks as he steps between her legs and bends down to whisper in her ear; voice heavy with lust. “You drive me crazy, Max.” Drawing his thumb across her bottom lip, she lets herself glide off the edge of the bed until her knees hit the floor. Gazing up at him, wetting her lips. “Your knee…”

“Will be fine if I don’t put too much pressure on it. Don’t worry.” His gaze searching her eyes, she smiles softly when he nods. Gripping the base of his dick, she keeps her eyes on him as she guides his dick into her mouth.

Taking in as much as she can, she keeps working him while breathing steady through her nose. “Fuckin—Fuck…” Swearing under his breath, she chuckles as his hands cradle the sides of her head. Squeezing his thigh makes him lock eyes with her. “Sure?” Nodding up at him, he begins slowly thrusting in and out while keeping his eyes on hers as his hold tightens. She feels herself grow slick while she holds onto his thighs for support; letting him determine the pace. She watches him nearly unravel before withdrawing from her mouth; cupping her face and kissing her swollen lips. Bending down, he scoops her up in his arms. Turning around, he takes a seat on the bed while she wraps her legs around him, his dick pressed between them. “How’s your knee?”

Cupping his face in both hands, she places a kiss on his nose. “Still there.” She smiles as she looks in his eyes. “Love you, Dean.”

He exhales as he bumps his forehead softly against hers. “Love you too, Max.”

As Max grabs his dick, his breathing hitches. She tries to push herself up to sit on both of her knees but decides against it halfway through. “Help me up a bit?”

His hands move down her sides and grab her ass. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” He gently lifts her up and lowers her onto him as she positions his dick at her entrance. A guttural moan escapes her mouth as he inhales a hiss of air. Wrapping her arms around his neck, he holds onto her ass. “Merde, Dean.” The warmth, intimacy and security she feels make her chuckle.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Never better, love.” Letting her body rock over his as their eyes never leave each other. Ragged breathing. Rhythms melding into one until time stands still and they come undone around each other.

* * *

Following a good night’s sleep, Sam knocks on Dean’s door to wake him. After two minutes with no answer, he quietly opens the door.

As the lighting from the hall falls inside, it illuminates Dean’s bed. His eyebrow raises at the sight of Dean sleeping on his stomach with the sheet just covering his ass. Opening his mouth to call his name, his gaze travels to the side. It’s only then that the notices a naked stomach next to Dean. His head laying on top of her chest and holding onto a breast with one of his hands.

When he notices Max staring at him, he closes his mouth as he feels warmth creep up his neck. She smirks before winking at him.

Darting out in the hallway, he makes sure to close the door without making a noise and stumbles his way to the kitchen. Amena and Castiel are sitting there watching something on Castiel’s tablet as their eyes snap up to him. A knowing glint crosses their look. _Of course they knew!_ “How long?”

Castiel smiles triumphantly. “Yesterday.”

Rolling his eyes, he takes his wallet out of his back pocket and hands Cas a ten dollar bill.


	16. Chapter 16

Sharing with Dean how Sam had found out, caused him to burst out in a full belly laugh. The only thing that slightly bothered him was that he didn’t get to watch Sam’s face journey.

After a quick breakfast and gathering their gear, they join the others in the garage. Dean keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders as they discuss the plan one last time; drive close to the location and call on Castiel and Amena a minute before going inside the building. During the discussion, Cas keeps beaming at her with a happy smile while Sam’s gaze strays to them a handful of times with a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, slackers, let’s hit the road.” Max interrupts as they start going over the plan—again. “If you need to go over it again, you guys can do a conference call or whatever. I don’t care, we’re wasting time.”

Amena smirks at her. “Max is right. Go.”

“Thank you, my dearest Amena.” Dragging Dean to the car, she pushes him inside the front seat while Sam stands still at the other side of the car. She rolls her eyes at him. “Just take the front seat, Sam. Nothing needs to change, alright?”

“Uhm, yeah. Of course, Max.”

She slides in the backseat as she ruffles Dean’s hair. “Sam’s uncomfortable because he caught us.”

Sam levels her with a playful glare as he sits down. “That’s not what’s going on. I’m worried about today, Max.” Dean starts the engine and takes off.

“Why?”

“I don’t get how you’re so relaxed about all of this. I’m freaking out over here thinking this is going to get one of us killed!”

Max shrugs her shoulders. “Que sera, sera.”

“Isn’t that a song?”

“I don’t know about that, I’ll look it up later. It means _what will be, will be_.” She snorts. “We’ll be fine. Don’t think I’m not worried, though. Everyone expresses things differently, Sam. Not over thinking things is how I cope.” She shuffles to lay down on the backseat, staring at the ceiling. “I know the plan, I can guess all the possible outcomes… and I also know I’ve got two badass men and two badass angels at my side when it’s go time. Whatever happens after that, well, I can’t change anything about it right now. So, that is how I can be relaxed about it, if that makes sense?”

“Huh. Okay.”

“Talk about it with us if you need to, Sam. You’ve got us locked in here for a _very_ long time, might as well use it.”

“Ughhh.” Dean groans.

\ \ \

After eleven hours in the same car and two short stops, they walk slowly down the street towards the building. The houses in the street seem occupied by regular people. Near the end of the street, they see it. A building that looks more like a factory than a house. No visible windows. A giant grey square with one black door at the left side. It’s at some distance from the nearest house, a patch of grass between them.

They hide behind the shrubbery of the closest house. “Ready?” Dean asks. Sam nods at Dean and Max does the same. She watches Dean close his eyes for two seconds before Castiel and Amena stand next to him. “Did your sister finish the spell?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” All silently nod at each other and walk next to each other towards the door.

Close to the door, Amena and Cas come to a forced standstill. Castiel’s head turns to the side as he examines an invisible wall with his hand. Max watches fear take over his expression before he addresses them. “This entire place is warded against angels. We cannot go with you.”

Dean turns to Sam and they share a look before they both turn to Max. She looks them both in the eye before nodding. Dean turns back to Cas and Amena. “Keep an eye on the perimeter, we’ll come find you when it’s done.”

Castiel looks between the three of them. “Be careful. Please.”

“Make sure there’s lots of pizza for us afterwards, Cas.” She winks at Cas before walking towards the door, Sam and Dean quickly joining her left side for the last couple of steps.

Sam and Dean ready their guns as Max stands behind them. Sam inhales deeply and opens the door.

An empty foyer leading to one door. Behind it, a long hallway they can’t see the end of. Several doors in the distance. As soon as they got close to the first door, it springs open wide and a handful of demons pour out.

\ \ \

They’ve been fighting for who knows how long. Clearing out rooms laying behind the doors. Waiting for the next one to pop open. Rinse and repeat. They settle into a rhythm. Demons attack them and Max freezes their energy as soon as they pop up, like reflex. Sam and Dean put some demon-killing bullets in their skulls.

“I think they’re _trying_ to get me tired.”

“Is it working?” Dean and Sam shoot the three remaining demons in the head.

“If it was hand-to-hand combat, sure. This? Easier than breathing.” After a while of walking and killing through the corridors, they soon lose track of counting the demons. As they round a corner, they see a giant, black double-door. “Trap. Definitely. You guys see any other options?”

All three look around in the corridor, the adjacent rooms already cleared. “No. It’s leading us straight here.” Walking closer to the door, she can feel the energy angrily pounding against it. The flow isn’t as it should be.

Wrong.

Heavy.

Deadly.

“Run like hell. Right the fuck now.”

“What? Why?” They both narrow their gaze on her.

“That energy in there is the kind _you_ cannot survive.” As Dean looks into her eyes, she’s sure the fear for their safety is prominent. “Please!”

His eyes growing wide, he yanks Sam by the arm and starts running with Sam on his heels. She catches them both looking back once before they round a corner. Inhaling and exhaling a few minutes to calm her nerves, she hopes they made it outside.

All at once a single thought takes over, that going in there on her own is plain suicide.

_But who else could go in there?_

_Has to be me._

As soon as her hand touches the door, overwhelming nausea hits her. She swallows it down and pushes the door open. Her vision blurs from the intense light. _Fuck fuck fuck!_ Refusing to cower and hide her eyes from the light, she faces it head on and waits for the blurriness to pass.

Leaning onto what she can only describe as a cannon emitting that light beam, is a tall and gorgeous blonde woman. “Finally. It was rather tedious… waiting on you to walk in here.” The grin on the woman’s face screams _I’m going to make you suffer for keeping me waiting_.

“Rosalia.” Still fighting down the nausea, she’s absolutely certain it’s whatever the cannon’s beam is doing to her. “Don’t suppose you could turn that thing off?”

Rosalia’s cackling laugh sends a chill down her spine as she keeps taking small steps forward. “Oh, sugar. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes and say something aggravating, she tries to feel the energy beyond the cannon. It’s unreachable, the beam’s too overwhelming. “So. You’ve been wanting to talk to me.” She tries manipulating the energy around the cannon and the beam. It doesn’t work. “Could’ve just called, you know? Asked me on a date?”

A frown forms on Rosalia’s face. “Can you stop that! Bloody hell!” She exhales as if forcing herself to put up an act again. “I’ve been feeling you weave your awful essence through everything for years. It’s damn distracting, not to mention annoying.” Standing straight, she holds a small piece of machinery in her hands. “From now on, you will only use your powers when I say you can.” As she pushes something on the machinery, Max feels the nausea hit her double as hard. “You are only permitted to use them on whomever I say. Nod if you understand.”

Max nods and she feels the nausea reside a bit. “What’s in the beam?” She manages to croak out as she wonders how much or how long she could take this.

“You like it?” She laughs and appears to be pleased that Max finally asked the question. “My witchy lover crafted this. It emits an ability of mine you might like… photokinesis. They were also especially kind in adding some extra radiation. They assured me twenty seconds of the beam was enough to kill any ordinary human. Well, you’re still standing, obviously.”

_Fan-fucking-tastic. Burning light ánd extra radiation. Ruining my fucking day._ “You want to use my powers but you wanted to know if I’d die of radiation first?” Refusing to acknowledge the tremble in her legs, she keeps her feet planted steady on the floor.

“Now, now, don’t be silly.” Rosalia checks her out from top to bottom with a disgusted frown. “We haven’t figured out how your powers work yet but we were fairly certain you could survive it. You’re looking a bit pale, though. Don’t throw up.” She walks around the cannon and stops at the other side, wiping some dust away. “Tell me the extent of your power or I triple the setting.”

_She must’ve been watching in the hallways. So… the clueless asshole only knows what she’s seen._ Stopping a grin from forming, she makes sure to let reluctance seep through in her voice. “I can only use energy around objects, people. Like your useless demons we allowed in our bunker. I froze the energy around them so they couldn’t move and we killed them with a demon-killing knife.”

“Well, that’s disappointing. I was expecting more. Oh well. I take it the beam is stopping you from using your power?” Max nods and Rosalia glances at her nails as if she’s getting bored. “Your first job will be to kill my witch, I’ll have one of my demons accompany you to carry out the killing.”

“You want me to kill your lover… Fine, whatever. When?”

“Eager, are we? Good. I like that.” She throws the machinery from hand to hand a couple of times as she appears to be thinking. “You will address me as Queen Rosa from now on. Nod if you understand.” Max nods and Rosalia squeals in excitement. “We’re going to have so much fun together, my little pet. I’ll come collect you when it pleases me. Hmm. Six times as much should keep you docile. If you throw up, you will lick every single drop off the floor.”

Without warning, the beam grows denser and stronger than before. Burning into every fiber of her being. Her knees and hands drop to the floor as she watches a happy Rosalia walk out the door behind the cannon. Swallowing the bile and the scream rising up in her throat, she watches in fascination as the energy around her becomes something she could only describe as being enveloped by the brightest star in any universe. _God, it’s beautiful._ Carefully absorbing small amounts of energy, she feels it wrap around her like caressing tendrils before merging with her own. In turn, she uses that same amount to fuel herself, to be able to keep up her own shield; which she had materialized before opening the door. For a split second, she wonders if it would be possible to survive the radiation on her own. _Ehh, better not check it._

She endures—for what feels like an eternity—a constant loop of absorbing and spending energy so the radiation doesn’t touch her.

Keeping balance between the two is exhausting.

Keeping up her shield is exhausting.

Sitting on her knee is exhausting.

Thinking is exhausting.

Breathing is exhausting.

Being is exhausting.

Thighs tremble and droplets of sweat trickle down her face, falling on the tiles.

Drip.

Drip.

It takes every single cell in her body to hold herself together, so much so that it becomes tempting to let go. To stop and let the radiation consume her. Twenty seconds isn’t that long to die—she hopes. It would be so easy to just stop. So easy.

_But that’s what Rosalia wants, she wants to break me…_

_The faster I break, the faster I get out of here. Dead or alive._

_Does it even matter which way at this point?_

_No._

_No, it doesn’t._ _As long as I take her down with me._


	17. Chapter 17

Allowing herself to fall forward on her face, she sighs in bliss as her body finally gets some rest. In the back of her mind she can hear herself say her knee wouldn’t hurt so much if she wasn’t so damn stubborn in holding on, and another self telling her to act more vulnerable. _And who am I to argue with the voices in my head?_ She snorts at her own inner monologue.

Hearing a door open, she pretends to be completely exhausted. _Pretends? Yeah, right._ After a few beats of silence, she feels the beam turn off. Completely. “Four and a half bloody hours. Do you have any idea how dull it was to watch you? And I thought accountants were boring. Pfft, you are on a whole other level, my dear.”

Keeping her head on the floor, she strongly feels the absence of the beam’s energy. Now she’s only got left what she hasn’t used up yet—her own life force. Already she can perceive the draining. Leeching her, slow and steady. “Never said you wanted me to entertain you.”

“Queen Rosa.”

“My name’s Max, actually.”

“I do _not_ care what your name is. You _will_ address me as _Queen Rosa_. If you don’t cooperate, I will have one of my demons possess you and let _them_ do the work.” Keeping silent as Rosalia didn’t ask a question, she shifts her head a little to track her movements. “Stand up.”

She wants to jump up and attack. She can envision herself doing it. But her limbs feel heavy and the drain is ever persistent. Not keeping up her shield is not an option. All her instincts scream at her to preserve as much energy as she can and wait until the exact right second to make a move.

_Hesitating gets you killed. Hesitating gets you killed. Hesitating gets you killed._

It takes her a full three minutes to get up and stand steady, not even faking it one bit. Breathing becomes more difficult from the exertion and she feels like a trembling mess. _Weak. Weak. Weak. Too fucking weak._ Keeping the radiation out of her must have really taken a toll because she can feel her shield drain her faster than ever before. _Won’t make it five more minutes at this rate._ “Come stand before me.”

Slugging her feet one in front of the other, she comes to a standstill right in front of Rosalia, lifting her chin in defiance. “Now what?”

Fury crosses Rosalia’s face as she stomps her foot before shouting. “IT’S QUEEN ROSA!”

_Finally._ Taking advantage of the demon’s angered state, Max places both hands on Rosalia’s face and starts siphoning her energy without delay. The demon claws her fingers into Max’s shoulder and screams. The door at the back of the cannon opens and black-eyed demons swarm inside. _Thank fuck she’s got a lot of energy to steal._ Maintaining her hold on Rosalia’s face with both hands, she concentrates on the demons.

No theatrics this time.

No slapping her hands.

No grabbing a stick to pretend she’s Hermione Granger, waving her wand about.

No wrapping the enemy in bubbles first to minimize damage to herself or to her surroundings.

Only her power at its most raw form; manipulating the surrounding particles to make the eleven other demons combust from pure pressure within two seconds… and finding the room and herself sprayed with blood.

Rosalia manages to twist herself loose as Max wipes the blood out of her eyes with one hand. The demon’s voice sounds strained. “Worthless piece of shit!” She tries to run away but slips over the little piece of machinery she must have dropped during the fight.

_Hesitating gets you killed._

Using the last strength in her legs, Max jumps on top of her and resumes siphoning at the same time as Rosalia barrages her with her photokinesis. They spend minutes like this until Max watches the color drain completely out of Rosalia’s face and eyes; feeling the demon turn to ashes underneath her until Max drops on the floor with an open mouth. Tasting ash in the back of her throat.

In a burst of rage she lets the cannon explode inside an energy bubble until it’s completely annihilated. Panting, she allows her shield to dissipate and rolls on her back; gazing at the ceiling. An angry, brutal scream leaves her mouth before tears start rolling down. Closing her eyes, she breathes in and out… until a sensation of something being very wrong creeps up.

The draining. It’s not stopping.

The realization makes the hair on her arms stand up. _No no no no._ She tries to get up but her legs give out from under her. Rolling back on her stomach, she starts dragging herself out into the hallway. All the while her mind jumps back and forth between crawling on the tiles here and crawling through the fields after falling down a shaft all those years ago.

* * *

Hours and hours of waiting without Max walking towards them with a victorious, cocky smile. Agony evident on all their faces. The first two hours they spent discussing strategies until Sam mentioned that being in there so long has got to be a bad sign. After that, they all quieted down. Letting his mind go to the worst places, he keeps himself standing upright. Standing in a way that he could run to the entry without delay or start shooting whatever comes out. Every nerve in his body on fire.

Not being able to fight by her side.

Not knowing what’s going on—that’s the worst.

\ \ \

It doesn’t register at first, when a bloodied hand curls around the corner of the entryway. It takes his full notice when that hand falls on the ground and digs in the grass. The fingers remain clutching the grass but nothing happens. Raising his eyebrows at Sam, they continue forward with their guns raised. A sharp gasp from behind them turns into a shout. “Max!” Dropping his gun, he runs full speed towards her, knowing the three of them will protect his back.

What he sees stops his heart for a second.

It’s undeniably her; drenched with blood.

His chest hurts and his throat tightens from thinking about what could’ve happened. All the blood makes it hard to see where she’s wounded. Dropping down on his knees next to her, he turns her around and ignores the panic in his gut as she feels very warm but appears to be lifeless. Her front looks to be covered in dust. The silence from the others makes his skin crawl. Keeping his fingers on the pulse point in her neck, he wants to jump with joy when he finally feels a beat. Cradling her, he slowly stands up with her in his arms and walks over to Cas and Amena; careful not to jostle Max too much. “Cas? Please?” Fear eminent in his voice, his best friend looks at him with a grave expression.

Cas takes a hold of Max’s hand. “Her heartbeat is incredibly faint.” Placing both hands around her face, he carefully slaps her awake. “There you are.” Her eyes remain closed and she doesn’t stir but he can hear a small exhale. “Take some of my energy, Max. Please.” She opens her eyes to look at Cas and he swears he can almost visibly see the life going out in them. Her eyes turn the faintest blue for half a second. “Take more!” She lets her head roll to the side, into Dean’s chest. After a minute, Castiel speaks up. “Okay. I understand.” Cas smiles softly at her before turning his worried gaze to Dean. “She took some to reverse the draining but more…” Cas sighs. “She’s being quite vocal about reminding me she knows her own powers. It’s like—and I quote—sipping from scalding hot tea, waiting for it to cool down instead of drinking an entire steaming kettle once it reaches its boiling point.”

Filing the information away, he nods gratefully at Cas. “Is she injured?”

Cas lays his hand on Dean’s shoulder and they’re standing in the bunker again. “No. She is exhausted beyond a point you will never comprehend.” Laying his hand on her head, he exhales slowly before speaking up again. “She is hanging on by the thinnest thread. Using her own essence like that… it will take a while to restore it.”

“What do you mean? Can’t you just heal her?”

Cas ignores his questions, lets go of her head and laughs. “Tired to the bone and still telling us off for talking about her like she isn’t here. My apologies, Max.” Castiel looks him in the eye. “She needs to rest and will tell you everything when she's able to.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean turns his gaze towards Max and softens his voice. “I’ll draw you a bath, sweetheart. Get all the blood off of you. Unless a bath would make things even worse, Cas?”

“No, it wouldn’t. The bath is already filling up as we speak.” Nodding at Cas, he turns around towards the hallway. “I’m going back to Sam and Amena, they stayed behind to clear the place. Going by Max’s state, I don’t think there’s anything left standing there but we have to be sure. Maybe Sam can find a way to remove the warding now.”

Feeling Max exhale against his chest, he turns back to Cas. “Be careful, yeah?”

“Of course, Dean.”

\ \ \

Getting her in the bath was easier said than done. Unable to hold her own head up and after some maneuvering on his part, he supports her head with one hand while he gently washes her with the other. Her unresponsiveness filling him with dread. All he can manage is to whisper childish jokes in her ear, in the delusional hope she would burst out in laughter.

It’s not until he’s taken her to her room and dressed her in her pajamas that she opens her eyes. The small movement makes it feel as if an anvil has been lifted from his chest. Dull and tired eyes follow his every movement as he tucks her in. Settling in next to her, he pulls her into his side and he releases a long breath.

Tears seep through his shirt where her head meets his chest. His face screws up as his heart crumples. Letting his own tears flow freely, he kisses the back of her head. “Sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”


	18. Chapter 18

Two days pass before she wakens from her slumber.

Muscles feeling sore and her head pounding. Unable to move any limb.

Amena’s angelic face comes into view when she opens her eyes.

Her throat and mouth feel dry. _Is everyone ok? Dean. Where’s Dean?_

Amena helps her sit up. “No injuries, place was empty. Dean’s fine. Castiel and Sam physically forced him to have dinner with them.” Envisioning the image, she laughs but no sound comes out of her mouth. “You need to hydrate.” A straw gets pushed gently in her mouth. “Drink.” She can see the clear liquid in the glass, water. Tears run down her cheeks as she keeps drinking.

It tastes like ash.

\ \ \

Three more days and she prays to Castiel with Dean snoring next to her; curled into her side. Blind in the darkness of her room, she feels a warm hand grab hers and squeeze it softly. She tries to squeeze back; she doesn’t succeed. _Worse than last time this happened._

A whisper in her ear. “It was so close, Max. I… I couldn’t tell them how bad it really was. A few seconds later and... I was so scared.”

_Thank you for not telling them, there’s no need to have them even more worried._ Tugging at his pure energy, she steals the tiniest amount and absorbs it. _Merci, mon ami._ His forehead bumps hers and a warm tear falls on her face. Forcing the muscles in her throat, she’s able to form two whispery words. “It’s okay.” She lets him weep quietly against her.

\ \ \

Yoghurt. Soup. Pudding. Ice-cream. Tea.

It all tastes like ash.

\ \ \

Sitting up by herself, she exhales from the effort. “Fuck!” She smiles triumphantly at Dean and Amena after she manages to use her regular voice after two weeks of whispering words here and there. “Fuck!”

“Is that a request?” Amena deadpans.

Max raises an eyebrow. _Are you offering?_

“No. You’d never want to go back to Dean afterwards, so best not risk it.”

With a grin, her eyes stray to Dean’s. His wink warms her heart.

\ \ \

She struggles; every day.

She feels the absence of most of her essence; every day.

She holds everything in and yet feels empty; every day.

Dean asks her if she wants to talk about it; every day.

She feels a little less empty on the days she does talk about it.

\ \ \

“Told you I’d get my hands on her first.”

Dean and Sam roll their eyes at her smirk. Finally ready to tell them what happened with Rosalia, they had moved her in a wheelchair to the library. She sits at the head of the table with Dean and Cas on her left and Sam and Amena on her right. “It’s not something to joke about, Max, you could’ve died.” Sam says gently.

“I know that and I was prepared to—if it came to that.” She frowns. “I had to try and I didn’t die. So, I get to laugh about it as much as I _need_ to.” Waving the thought of dying at Rosalia’s hands away, she continues telling them everything. “I saw the sky and felt the grass and then I felt nothing. I wasn’t angry and scared anymore. I got out and I felt _nothing_ until Cas was slapping me awake.” She snorts at Cas’ nervous look.

Dean clears his throat. “So, you’ve experienced the draining before?”

“Yes. Not as bad as this one, though.” Flexing her hands, she stares at her fingers for a few seconds. “It was part of training to not only find out the highest attainable level of your power, but also the lowest.” She sighs. “My lowest level was achieved by overexertion. We thought the easiest way would be to keep my shield up without fighting. I kept it up for nineteen hours until I could barely open my eyes. I shut my shield off but I kept getting leeched and I got stuck in a downwards spiral; I felt my own essence eating itself away. My trainers were panicking and I was too exhausted to do anything. So they shot me with a sonic gun.”

“They what?!”

“I think my power did it by itself because I felt the energy of the blast getting absorbed as soon as they pulled the trigger. Naturally, I told them to keep shooting.”

Dean laughs. “Of course you did.”

“The third time they shot me, the draining came back and it spiraled even quicker than before. One of the elders had been watching out of curiosity and told the trainers to give me a different kind of energy. They shoved an electric lamp in my hand for a few seconds and took it away again. Strangely enough, that did the trick. It took me three months of siphoning lamps to get back to normal.”

Sam scratches his chin. “How long do you think the recovery will be now?”

Amena answers. “Cas and I are certain it will be close to a year. She will regain enough strength to walk again soon but her essence is still too fragile. Even we can barely detect it now.”

\ \ \

Waking up and her mouth feels full of ash again.

Dean cradles her body as she cries.

When her breathing calms down, he helps her wash her mouth, twice.

\ \ \

Walking slowly around the table to stretch her legs, she smiles to herself. “You guys placing bets yet? I want in on it.”

Dean and Cas turn to her with a quizzical look. “What are you going on about, Batman?”

“Sam and Amena.”

Dean huffs as Cas hides a smile. “There’s nothing to bet about there.”

“I love you but you’re blind as hell.”

Cas laughs. “Well, they’ve known each other for a little over three months now. I bet within the next eight months.”

Max stops to watch Castiel’s expression, trying to gauge anything. “I don’t know, man. Amena’s a force of nature, she will be quicker than that. I say five months.”

“Guys, listen up. There’s nothing going on between Sam and Amena.”

Ignoring him, she extends her hand to Cas. “500 bucks?” He smiles and shakes her hand.

\ \ \

Cas won the bet.

Six months.

\ \ \

Walking through the hallway, she overhears Sam and Dean talk about her. Worried about her still not eating enough and having lost too much weight. With a sigh, she joins them as they look at her with sympathy. “I’m not doing it intentionally.”

“We know.” Dean says.

Sadness overwhelms her. “I want to eat and not taste ashes every damn time. I know there’s no fucking ash in my mouth but I keep fucking tasting it. It’s all in my damn head and I can’t get it out. I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Maybe it’s time to find help elsewhere?” She turns her gaze to Sam. “It’s been eleven months since it happened, Max. You’re not getting enough nutrition and Amena says it’s slowing everything. You’ve barely recovered half your essence. At this rate it will be another yea—”

“I know! Please stop, Sam.” She gets up and leaves to continue her walking exercise.

When her anger at the situation resides, she asks Sam’s help to find a psychologist.

\ \ \

Dean drives her to the psychologist two times a week and waits patiently in the lounge until she’s done.

Bernie. Friend of Donna Hanscum—knows all about hunters but isn’t interested in becoming one. Bernie reminds her a bit of Jimmy.

“Did you feel the same, as you do now, after the first time you drained yourself?”

She huffs. “No, not at all. Tired, of course, but this… I can’t get rid of the taste.”

“It’s not really about the ashes, is it?” Bernie’s kind gaze analyzes her every reaction.

“I don’t know.”

“Yet.”

Rolling her eyes elicits a laugh from him. “What do _you_ think it’s about then?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Shrinks.” Another laugh escapes his mouth. “Glad at least one of us is enjoying themselves.”

“You will too, with time.”

She sighs. “I’ve had enough time. I want to not be afraid to eat and anticipate the taste of ashes every time.”

“What exactly is frightening to you?”

She shrugs. “I just told you.”

“Humor me. In general.” She thinks about her answer as he watches her intently. “What thought just crossed your mind?”

“I don’t know… I keep going back to how weakened I was. If I hadn’t started siphoning her when I did, I’d be nothing now. Just a husk. She’d be in total control of me.”

“What kind of feeling does that thought bring out in you?” He leans forward and rest his chin in his hand.

“I don’t know.” Her eyes snap up to his. “It’s about control, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

She frowns. “You’re way too good at shrinking, stop it for a moment. Please. I need honest and frank answers.”

He places his tablet on the table and sags in his armchair. “Of course. Only for a moment, though.” She laughs as a kind smile emerges on his mouth. “What you went through, I’ll never fully understand. Neither will the others. The angels, maybe, yes.” She gets more comfortable in her own seat. “You’re traumatized. You were literally on Death’s door and you’re still recovering from it. I admire your strength. One could argue you’re too strong.”

“My powers?”

“No, Max. I’m talking about you as a person. You don’t _have_ to be strong all the time. When you recounted the fight to me, one thing stood out to me.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “You were ready to die in a heartbeat if it meant she couldn’t use you. Right?”

“Yes, but it isn’t about dying.”

“It isn’t about dying. You were okay with dying because it meant she wouldn’t win—because if she won, it would mean she would have total control over you. Trapped as a spectator in your own body. Like when you where being tortured with the beam, you could do nothing but sit there and watch and wait.”

“I guess…”

He exhales softly. “You thought you were angry but she gave you a taste of what it would be like and it absolutely _terrified_ you, didn’t it?” Refusing to answer, she waits for him to continue. “You’re a strong, amazing woman and she brought you to your knees like it was nothing. She made you feel weak and _wanting_ to die. When you killed her, you took back control but it wasn’t enough.” Max can do nothing but stare at him with an open mouth as tears form in her eyes. “You tasted her ashes in your mouth and you realized killing her didn’t stop you feeling terrified.”

Tears keep rolling down. “I… I don’t… I’m not scared.”

“I know. Being scared of something and being terrified is not the same.” Handing over the tissue box, he radiates understanding. “Just because you won, doesn’t mean it took the possibility away—of being used as a puppet.” He exhales slowly. “All of this must’ve happened subconsciously and it must have been so overwhelming, your mind made you think you were angry and _that_ anger got you out of there. In a way, it is about control, yes. You can’t _control_ your fear of being used like that and fears have a funny way of manifesting themselves.”

After cleaning her nose and face, she takes a few breaths to calm herself. “I’m terrified there’s always going to be a chance that someone could use me as a puppet and I linked that fear to tasting ashes… That simple, huh?”

“Sometimes it is. I want you to know that you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of and that you’re going to be okay. We know what the problem is and we’ll manage it together. For our next appointment, I want you to write a list of ten things you look forward to tasting again.”

Dean drives to a park afterwards and guides her to a bench. Resting her head on his shoulder, she watches the clouds pass by. “I’m going to tell you what we discussed today.”

“Are you sure?” Feeling a kiss on the top of her head, she smiles.

“Yes. I want to tell you, love.”

“All right, sweetheart. Go ahead, I’m listening.” Grabbing his hand, she entwines her fingers with his.

\ \ \

> **10 things I’m DYING to fucking taste again**
> 
>   1. pizza
>   2. tea*
>   3. fries
>   4. strawberries
>   5. chocolate soufflé
>   6. mango
>   7. pizza
>   8. croissants
>   9. tacos
>   10. chocolate chip cookies
>   11. pizza
>   12. lemon squares
> 

> 
> _*at least 15 different flavors! I need a separate list for tea alone, OK, Bernie? can I get another list just for pizza too? please?_

Amena frowns. “Why?”

“Emphasis.”

Sam laughs while Amena keeps frowning at her. “You’re using this as an excuse to eat more pizza.”

“Absolutely.”

\ \ \

It’s two months later when she sends a very eloquent email to Bernie after eating strawberries and _tasting_ strawberries.

> **Subject: ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL **
> 
> strawberries! j’aime les fraises, B.
> 
> bernie… berry… strawberry; meant to be
> 
> TASTEBUDS WORKIN
> 
> swear i’m not crying
> 
> you’d best prepare mentally to talk about this tomorrow.

\ \ \

“Are you okay, Max?” As Dean places a kiss on the tip of her nose, she wraps her arms around his torso and crushes him closer to her.

Resting her head against his shoulder, she heaves a long sigh. Gazing at him while he brushes strands of her hair to the side. “Getting there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing about therapy and healing from trauma, so I do apologize if I've butchered it.


	19. Chapter 19

_Eight months later…_

Resting her feet on the grand table, Max stops reading to watch Dean walk in. Walking over with a phone against his ear and a smirk on his face, she lets her head fall back as he comes to a stop behind her. “No, man. You could’ve just called any one of us.” Leaning down, he presses a short kiss on her nose. Dean sighs as he walks around the room. Content, she resumes her reading. “Well, that’s what you get for going in alone. Of course we’ll check it out.” His huffing entices a small smile on her face. “No, it’s just me and Max here. Hey, Max?” Looking in the direction his voice came from, she raises an eyebrow at him. “Garth says hi.”

After inhaling a deep breath, she shouts. “HI GARTH! BYE GARTH!”

Dean rolls his eyes at her. “Yeah, my eardrums are okay, Garth.” Taking a seat next to her, she feels him wrap one arm around her shoulders. “Uh-huh. They’ll be back in a couple of hours and we’ll get there as quick as we can.” Closing the book on the table, she turns in her seat and smiles at the wink she gets when he catches her gaze. “Okay, send it to Sam and Max. See ya.”

“Is he okay?”

“Kinda. Saw a demon and followed it. Fell on some old pipes and broke his arm. He’s lucky the demon didn’t turn back.”

“And?”

“And… he followed the demon to a bar—crawling with werewolves, vamps, demons and who knows what else.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly. He got a look through a side window, turned around and ran; was calling me while he was still running.” Dean huffs.

“Any idea how many there were in the bar?”

“Well, he could only see the one room and was sure there were two more linked to it. He counted thirty-eight of them.”

Sucking in the air through her teeth, she feels Dean take her hand in his. “Fuck. Crap odds to take them all at once.”

“Yep.”

“Okay.” Squeezing his hand and letting go, she takes out her phone and begins reading Garth’s mail. “Chop chop, Winchester, we’ve got some work to do.”

\ \ \

Having prepared everything that could be prepared, they all agree to leave immediately. Amena takes Dean, Sam and Max close to the bar while Castiel makes a little detour to heal Garth.

“Well, that’s a shitty looking building.” Dean grumbles. “Why does it always have to be dirty? For once, I’d like a clean, pristine place to clear out.”

“As if, love. I can distinctly recall you saying something—at least five times by my count—about liking to get your rocks off in the shower after getting dirty on a job.” Sam laughs as Amena roll her eyes at Max.

“Well, I’m already looking forward to it, sweetheart.” Dean’s smirk catches her eye before she watches Castiel beam in next to Sam.

“How’s Garth?”

“He will be okay. His uhm… his kids didn’t want me to go.” Cas looks shamefaced. “I suggested a game of hide and seek.”

Max snorts while Dean hides his laughter. “Excellent thinking.”

Sam looks unimpressed at the three of them. “See, this is what you get when you hang around Dean and Max too much… Messing with Garth’s kids like that is exactly the thing they would do.”

Max hugs Cas. “Don’t listen to him, Cas, you’re perfect like this and need to hang out even _more_ with us.”

Amena slaps her hands together. “That’s enough sappiness for today, don’t you think? We’ve got a job to do.” Amena raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, listen to Amena, guys, and stop slacking around! This is unacceptable!” Mouthing a _sorry_ , combined with a wink, she swiftly moves to stand next to Dean.

They take a collective deep breath while standing side by side. Max and Dean’s hands entwined.

Sam speaks softly. “Everyone ready?”

“Yup, Sammy.”

“Absolutely.”

“Yes, Sam.” Cas and Amena say solemnly at the same time.

Dean squeezes her hand before saying the next words with determination. “Let’s gank these assholes.” Smirking at each other, they let go and walk straight into the bar with their family next to them.

THE END


End file.
